PRINCESS ALENA'S ADVENTURE Part 2: Alteration
by Sykonee
Summary: Alena, Cristo, and Brey continue their journey into the Wild Lands of Santeem, only to find someone seems be masquerading as them in a town called Frenor. What comes of this revelation will pit the travelers against their most trying tests yet.
1. Prologue

**BOOK 2: PRINCESS ALENA'S ADVENTURE**

**Part 2: Alteration**

Written By Christian A. Ciccone aka: Sykonee (~)

Based on events from Dragon Warrior IV

Prologue

The innkeeper walked uneasily up the dimly lit stairs, a light blanket of agitated sweat on his brow glistening in the torches. It had not been a good week and his mannerisms displayed his disturbed feelings outright.

The strange band of travelers who had come through two weeks ago left a terrible mess in the room they rented out. Auburn hair was all over the place, apparently from the young woman who suddenly decided her hair looked better short rather than shoulder-length. The innkeeper felt she was ludicrous but was wise enough not to voice his opinions. After all, they were paying customers and all sorts of oddballs had come through before.

However, it was not the hair scenario that upset him the most; rather it was the fact they left in the middle of the night without even paying that really annoyed the innkeeper. The old man who only wished to be referred to as James had promised him they would be staying there for a good two weeks. He paid for the rooms in half when they first arrived and promised to pay the rest when they left. It was a standard custom, as most inns followed this sort of contract between customers as it unified a sense of trust. And most customers were usually courteous enough to throw in a tidy tip if they could afford it for the inn's services.

Usually.

The innkeeper had done everything possible to make the strange group's stay pleasurable, if anything because he knew they were hunters and were making great gold with their work. The leather pouch at the old man's hip was always getting larger and larger as the days wore on. If they were making a large sum of money, that would mean they would be able to tip him more than the average wayfarer could.

So he put up with the mess of hair he was forced to clean, he let their loud arguments slide at the cost of other customers, and he did _everything_ possible to make their stay pleasurable...

Only to find they had left in the middle of the night, leaving no compensation for his troubles.

Their business had left him in debt but he was slowly climbing out of his financial hole. It would be a couple of months before he actually leveled off from the group's business but at least he no longer had to charge outrageous prices for his rooms.

Eventually, the innkeeper reached the room where all of his financial troubles had started. He took out a key and rattled it in the door's lock. It was a futile hope they had perhaps left something of value by accident before they left but it was hope nonetheless. He had already searched the room and found only more of a mess than before, yet it was very possible he overlooked something.

The door opened and the innkeeper swung it aside, feeling a cool draft flow out from the dark room. _Curious_, he thought as he stepped in. _Why is there a breeze_?

He walked forth glancing around the room to make sure everything was in proper order. He followed the draft to its source: an opened window. The innkeeper shook his head in disgust and proceeded to shut the window. "Going to have to talk to those attendants," he muttered absently.

As he locked the window, he heard the door behind him suddenly slam shut. The innkeeper jumped out of shock and quickly spun around, searching for who had closed the door.

No one was there.

His heart still racing, the innkeeper looked around the dark room, having only the light of the city filtering through the window as his guide. He found no trace of anyone other than himself. Still, even if it was just one of his attendants accidentally closing the door without realizing he was in here, or if it was just the wind slamming it shut, he was not one to take a risk. Something did not seem right and, given the amount of bad luck he had received at the hands of this room, the innkeeper figured it would be a better idea to just leave and come back during the day.

Just as he reached for the doorknob, a large, gloved hand shot out from the shadows and clamped down on his throat. The innkeeper tried to gasp but no sound could escape his mouth, the hold on his neck so strong. He nervously turned his head around and saw the hand and arm seemingly emerged from the shadowed wall. However, he could not see who his assailant was.

"Where are they?" a cold voice asked evenly. The assailant's gloved hand relaxed a bit, allowing the innkeeper to speak.

"W...w...who?" the innkeeper squeaked, sweat dripping off his brow.

"Don't toy with me," the voice growled. The assailant promptly lifted the innkeeper off the ground, still holding him by the neck. He tried to wriggle free but the grip was so strong he could do no more than slap the massive arm with futile swings. "The old man that was here."

"I... I... d...don't... know..." the innkeeper gasped. "Th...They... left."

"When?" the voice snarled, his hand slowly closing on his throat.

"A... week... perhaps..." the innkeeper replied, his voice hardly above a whisper.

A low, guttural growl came from the shadows and the gloved hand quickly squeezed the innkeeper's neck, a sickening _pop_ echoing throughout the dark room.

Stepping out from the dark wall, Flail let the man's body drop lifelessly to the floorboards. He usually did not kill the people he questioned but the dark mercenary's mood had grown tempestuous of late.

He knew Brey would have left Surene with the Princess no later than a day after he had interrogated the apprentice cleric, Cristo. Flail had planned to pursue a day later, giving him enough room to effectively track their movements. However, the dark mercenary had suddenly come down with a rare and serious disease. In fact, the disease was so rare, very few people knew of its existence to give it a name, much less learn of a cure.

Fortunately, Flail had many more contacts than the average person, contacts that would be able to get their hands on nearly anything he needed. Zhesh Toosh, the master of the Surene Thieves' Guild, had been able to get his slight hands on padequia, a rare herb from a foreign country Flail had never bothered to remember the name of. Padequia was reputed to cure _any_ disease, whether it was as merciful as a simple fever or severe as small pox and pneumonia.

Whatever the dark mercenary had come down with, the herb disposed of the disease within a few days. After Zhesh investigated the matter on his behalf, Flail discovered someone had tried to assassinate him by placing a rare poison in his food.

Normally, the dark mercenary would have put everything down to find out who could have been so bold to attempt to assassinate him. However, his momentary illness caused him to temporarily lose the Princess' trail.

Flail walked over to a table in the middle of the room and promptly sat on it, deeply thinking over his prey's tactics.

He seriously doubted Brey and the Princess were still in the city. No matter how well they could hide, Zhesh's large ring of associates within Surene were too numerous to evade detection for this long. The possibility of hiding in one of the many farming villages that dotted the Santeem fields was also out of the question. The King of Santeem had sent his best scouts, trackers, hunters, and soldiers scouring the fields in search of his daughter, leaving no barn or peasant dwelling unturned. To hide in one of the farming villages would be a futile gesture.

The only possibility Flail saw they could have to evade capture would be to flee the country. However, leaving Santeem on a ship would not be possible as the King had quickly sent guardsmen to every port town or village that dotted the surrounding coastal areas. Brey had proven to be fast but even _he_ was not fast enough to elude guardsmen at every port.

There _was_ another alternative, though: the Old Merchant Road through the Santeem Mid-Range mountains and into the Wild Lands. It was a seldom-used path, often only traversed by poor merchants from eastern countries that could not afford to bring their wares to Santeem by means of ships. Even then, it was seldom used, as the Wild Lands were notorious for roving bands of orcs that would loot and pillage any unprotected travelers. According to Zhesh, no one had come through the mountain pass of the Old Merchant Road in at least five years. The leader of the Surene Thieves' Guild had given up setting bandits on the eroded road, the only people to come out of the mountains being shepherds to trade their wool during the spring, and there was not much of a market on wool.

Still, Flail knew how Brey would think, and the old man would probably have felt his back was against a wall if he stayed anywhere near Surene and Santeem Castle. The Old Merchant Road was likely the only alternative the old man could have thought of in such short notice.

Satisfied with his conclusion, the dark mercenary leaped from the table and made his way to the window from where he had entered to search the room.

He paused before he left, looking over his shoulder at the limp form of the innkeeper. Flail considered properly disposing of the corpse so it could not be traced to him. Besides, it would be courteous to not leave a stinking mess when he had not _really_ meant to kill the man, just question him in his normal fashion; despite what some people believed of his methods, he really was an honorable man.

However, the dark mercenary had already wasted enough time in Surene, and his prey was getting further and further from his grasp with every second we wasted.

Shrugging, Flail turned back to the open window and disappeared into the night.


	2. Chapter 1: On The Road

Chapter 1: On The Road

Two figures made their way through the thin forest, following a frequently used deer trail. However, their prey was not merely a roe or a buck but sport which would probably provide the pair with far more amusement than ordinary game.

The taller of the two, a young woman whose stern, determined expression seemed to clash with her youthful, exuberant face, led them down the trail, every so often tripping over an exposed root from the surrounding maple and cedar trees.

Every time she did so, a disapproving shaking of the head came from the old man following her. Upon seeing their travel-worn clothes, their callused skin, and weary bags underneath their eyes, any onlooker would have found it difficult to believe less than three weeks ago, these two wayfarers were once of noble housing.

It was not long before they reached their destination: a tiny lake where animals no doubt traveled for water. Splashing about in the water was their prey: a young man bathing.

"Are you sure this will work, Brey?" the young woman asked, crouching behind a bush as she intently studied her prey. She was somewhat tempted to try to sneak a peak at the naked man but he seemed to be doing a good job of concealing his skin underneath the water. It would be a waste of time to attempt such a look.

"Not completely sure, no," the old man replied, taking a position just beside the young woman. He rested his walking staff in front of him and opened up a spell book he had been carrying underneath his arm. After flipping a few pages, he came to the desired spell and began to study the strange patterns of the enchantment. "The reason we're doing this, Princess, is to see if I'm finally capable of casting such a spell yet."

He paused for a moment, then looked up at the young woman. "What _I'm_ wondering is if you are capable of using that boomerang yet?" he asked.

The young woman sighed, pulling out the weapon strapped to her belt on the opposite hip from her thorn whip. The boomerang, one of three intended for all of her companions, was a gift from a pair villagers in Tempe she had gotten to know, a token of thanks for their deeds while they stayed there. Since then, the young woman had been practicing her aim with the projectile weapon, slowly making improvement each day.

"I think I can handle it just fine now," she eventually replied, replacing the weapon in its ready position. She paused, looked at the old man, and boasted, "Just the other day, I managed to nail a flying crow with this thing."

The old man looked at her, a white, bushy eyebrow rising in surprise. "You never told me of that, Princess!" he exclaimed in a low voice.

The young woman flinched, glaring at the old man. "How many times do I have to tell you, Brey?" she said. "You don't have to call me that all the time anymore. My name is Alena, not 'Princess'."

"Fine," Brey mumbled, his attention already drawn back to his spell book. Alena glared at him, angry for ignoring her again but said nothing more, knowing her old tutor was probably too absorbed in his work to start bickering with her.

Shortly, Brey looked up from his book and peered forward towards the man bathing. "Alright," he said at length. "I'm ready to give this a try. Ready?" Alena nodded and the old man nodded back. At that, he started to focus his mind upon his target for the spell and, more specifically, the bather's skin.

Going over the desired effects of his magical abilities within his mind, Brey finally uttered, "Sap!" and pointed a wrinkled finger at the young man in the water hole. As he did, a wave of invisible energy surged from his finger into the bather's skin, rapidly taking a profound effect on his body.

His skin began to shrivel and cling tightly to his bones, loose amounts hanging in massive wrinkles. The young man started to panic, his skin's strange behavior sending fear throughout his mind. He began to thrash in the water, clawing at his skin as if something was attacking him before finally falling over with a less than graceful splash.

"I'd say the spell works just fine," Brey remarked with a wry smile.

"Will he be all right?" Alena asked, her eyes a little wide with concern for their victim.

"He should be," the old tutor replied as he grabbed his crooked walking staff. "It only lasts for around five or ten minutes, and if he injures himself in that state he should be able correct any damage." Alena nodded and stood up along with Brey. They then stealthily made their way back to their camp, leaving the bather to himself in a state of disarray.

Once the pair felt they were a good distance away from the water hole as to not be heard, Alena turned to Brey and asked, "Do you think we should tell him about it when he returns?"

Brey raised a white, bushy eyebrow. "Why should we?" he asked sincerely.

The princess looked at her tutor for a moment, a little shocked by the candid tone of his voice. "Well," she said, "it's a little mean to do what you just did to him without explaining your actions. I mean, wouldn't _you_ worry for the rest of your life if something like that happened to you?"

"He'll find out if I ever use that spell again," Brey explained. He paused, looking away from the princess. "And if I _did_ worry about it for the rest of my life," he quietly added, "I doubt it would be all that long."

Alena overheard and gave the old tutor a sharp punch in the shoulder. Brey let out a muffled _ouch_ and rubbed his shoulder. "How _dare_ you think like that!" she said in a mockingly stern voice. "I thought we agreed never to joke or talk about death in such a manner."

"Right, right," Brey grumbled, still rubbing his shoulder. After a moment, he said, "I forgot just how strong you really are."

"Humph," Alena mumbled, turning her eyes skyward. "You know you're such a wimp sometimes? I just tapped you."

"'Tapped me', huh?" Brey muttered, rolling his sleeve up to make sure there was not any major damage. It revealed a white, bony arm with a deep, purple bruise just below the shoulder. The old tutor looked up at the princess, his eyes demanding reparations.

"Oh, you'll live," Alena sighed, flinging an arm in his direction, "and if it _really _bothers you, Cristo can always fix it up."

"No thanks," Brey said, rolling his sleeve back down. He swung his arm around a few times to make sure no serious amount of pain would impair him when using it.

The pair continued back to the camp without further comment. As they walked, Alena took her whip and slashed at a few overhanging branches or wrapping it around the trunk of a nearby tree. The violent _crack_ of her whip occasionally caused birds to flutter from their perches in the trees and take refuge in a calmer area of the forest.

Seeing the birds take flight, Brey was suddenly reminded of something the princess had mentioned while they were at the water hole. "So," he said, looking up to her, "you hit a crow with your boomerang, did you?"

Alena started to smile. "Yes, I did," she beamed as she put her whip back at her hip and grabbed her other weapon. She began to fondle it between her hands, tossing it back and forth with dexterity any juggler would envy.

"Tell me, then," the old tutor continued, "why didn't you bring back the carcass? I mean, it wouldn't make for much of a meal but at least you could brag about it at the campfire."

The princess' dexterous movements of the boomerang ceased, the weapon falling onto the ground as she paused in mid-step. "Well..." she began, her cheeks turning slightly red to match her short hair.

"What is it?" Brey pushed, although he already had a few guesses.

"I... lost the... carcass," Alena mumbled, looking away. She heard her old tutor start to break out in his characteristic cackle and quickly added, "But it wasn't my fault! Some sort of orange dog stole it from me before I could get it."

"Orange... dog?" Brey said between chuckles. "You don't mean a fox, do you?"

"Is _that _what they look like?" the princess asked, momentarily forgetting her humiliation. "I honestly didn't know. I've only seen their coats and tails on some of... the... things..." Her voice trailed off, a morbid thought entering her head.

Brey ceased his mild laughter upon seeing Alena's troubled mind. "Don't try to think about _that_ too much," he said, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder. "It's just a way of life. We've been wearing the furs of animals for centuries. If our ancestors hadn't started to wear them, it is a good bet we wouldn't be here today, most of them having frozen to death."

Alena looked at Brey for a moment and a smile cracked her lips. "You always bring out the worse case scenario, don't you?" she said, slightly nudging his shoulder. He flinched and Alena quickly withdrew her hand, forgetting the old tutor still had a tender bruise there. "Sorry," she muttered.

"It makes you thankful for what you have," Brey stated dryly, rubbing his shoulder.

"But we've gotten off topic. You were saying you hit a crow. That takes some fine aim since they aren't all that big." He paused, eyeing the princess with an intent eye. "How about a demonstration?"

Alena sighed, bent over to pick up her boomerang, and said, "Fine. What's the target?"

Brey rubbed his long white whiskers for a moment, surveying the surrounding forest for a suitable target. "There," he said, pointing to a large knothole high in a cedar tree. It may have been a nesting home for some small rodent or bird but, at their distance, neither could tell and did not think much of the consequences if anything did still live there.

The princess nodded and lined the target up before releasing her weapon. Her follow-through with the boomerang was smooth and the projectile flew through the air gracefully. However, Alena's aim was far from perfect and it sailed too high, hitting an overhanging branch before dropping ungracefully into the bush.

Brey looked at her for a moment, a tiny smile cracking his aged face. Alena flushed a deep red. After a moment, she blurted out, "Well, let's see _you_ do it!"

"Me?" the old tutor exclaimed, an incredulous look flashing across his face.

Realizing she had caught him off guard, Alena said, "Yes, you!" Perhaps she would get a chance to humiliate her tutor for a change.

"Well..." Brey muttered, rubbing the back of his head.

"You _did_ get a boomerang too, didn't you?" she continued, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Yes, but-"

"Then you should be able to use one as well." Alena bounded off into the forest to retrieve her weapon. After a few seconds of searching, she came back, her boomerang extended towards Brey in her right hand. "You have better aim than me, anyway," she continued. "After all, you're the one that was bragging to the peasants of Tempe how you hit a hiding rabidhound from fifty paces away with that 'Icebolt' spell of yours."

"Actually," Brey muttered, "it was more like twenty paces."

"Whatever," the princess said, rolling her eyes slightly. "You still have to at least try."

Grumbling, the old tutor handed his spell book over to her, snatched the boomerang from her grasp, lined up the target, and released the weapon in a single, rapid motion. He flinched momentarily, the bruise on his arm slightly impairing his throwing arm but was quick to ignore the pain, resolutely gritting his teeth through it.

The pair of them watched the boomerang lazily fly through the air, nearing the target. Alena had expected it to fall short, fly wide, or perhaps not even spin properly. However, the princess' mouth fell slack as the boomerang sailed through the air and hit the target dead center!

It glanced off the knothole and started its expectant return back to Brey's waiting, wrinkled hand. Once back in his grasp, the old tutor turned back to the princess, handed the boomerang back to her still outstretched hand, and took his spell book back. "Now," he said without so much as a pause, "if you don't mind, I'd like to get back to the camp. I'm hungry."

At that, the old tutor began to make his way back to the camp again, leaving Alena standing in the forest for several moments with her jaw still slightly agape.

* * *

The pair of travelers sat around an empty pit where their fire had been the previous night, one munching on some dried meat as he read his spell book, the other nonchalantly eating some bread while she still kept an amazed gaze on her old tutor. Brey had twice already asked her to stop it but Alena could not help it, his earlier ability with a boomerang still vivid in her mind. However, their uneasy silence was suddenly interrupted when a rustling from the bush drew their attention away.

Alena jumped up and ducked behind the log she was sitting on, placing a hand on her thorn whip. Brey, however, remained still, his arm slightly straying to the walking staff leaning beside him on the large rock he sat on. As the bush's rustling continued and drew closer, a somewhat distinct, complaining voice was heard, lightly swearing on "Zenithia" and "the Master".

"Relax, Princess," the old tutor said, smiling as he eased his hand off his walking staff. "It's only Cristo." Alena shot him an annoyed glare for reverting back to her formal address but did as he suggested, standing back up and taking a seat on the log again.

A few moments later, as well a few more curses later, out stumbled a young man with a somewhat hawkish face. A thin line of whiskers occupied his chin, the result of several days without a shave. His deep, brown hair, normally a mass of waves and curls, was slicked back at this point, suggesting he washed it in the last hour. His traveling clothes were well worn, even supporting a few bloodstains from a few of the battles he had seen while on the road with his companions. In his hand was a copper sword, somewhat duller than a blade of its caliber should demand. The reason for its dullness, though, was not from extensive battles but from misuse. By using the blade for cutting down branches in the forest, a few bits of the sword had been gouged out.

"Get lost again?" Brey asked, glancing up from his book as Cristo emerged. His comment brought forth an amused chuckle but neither of the old tutor's companions shared in it.

"It wasn't my fault this time, old man," Cristo shot back, annoyed the first comment he heard upon returning to the camp was Brey's characteristic antagonism.

"Oh?" the old tutor said, raising a bushy eyebrow in mock surprise.

"I'll have you know," the young man continued as he pulled a branch clinging to his wayfarer's clothes, "that I went through a traumatic experience while bathing."

Brey put his book down, placed his hands on his knees, and leaned forward. "Well, tell us about it!" he said, feigning surprise with wide-opened eyes.

Alena rolled her eyes in disgust, quickly realizing what her tutor was doing. While she had warned him before to stop it while they were on this journey, she kept her mouth shut. After all, the princess _was_ guilty of this sort of treatment to her appointed bodyguard before they all left the castle. If anything, Cristo had been dubbed the party's object of ridicule. Alena wondered if maybe it was she and her bodyguard's turn to give Brey that title soon.

Cristo, meanwhile, was beginning to spin some wild tale about what transpired at the water hole. While he got the part about his skin shrinking right, the bodyguard also added a horrific fight with strange, demonic creatures.

To Alena's surprise, Brey was listening intently, enthralled by Cristo's tale. That just did not seem right; her tutor normally would roll his eyes in disgust. The only possible reason for his action was he was planning on setting the bodyguard up for another one of his practical jokes. The princess knew just how sensitive Cristo could be if his morals or religion of Zenithism were attacked and she did not wish to see him hurt in such a manner, especially since the bodyguard had gone through enough for the day.

Just as Cristo was describing how he slew a fourth out of five attackers, Alena stood up and nearly shouted, "All right! That's enough!"

Both men stopped what they were doing and looked at her, bewildered. She did not wait for them to ask her what she was doing but pointed an accusing finger at Cristo. "Just stop with your idiotic story, Cristo," she forcibly said. "_None_ of that _ever_ happened or else we would have heard it!"

Brey's eyes widened in surprise and Cristo's jaw fell slack. "Princess," the bodyguard stammered, "I... I... only... was..." He suddenly stopped though, finally realizing something that Alena had said. "What do you mean, 'you would have heard'?" he asked.

The princess rolled her eyes, gave out an exasperated sigh, then pointed an accusing finger at her old tutor. "_He_ made your skin shrink," she explained. "He used some new spell called 'Sip' that-"

"'Sap'" Brey corrected nonchalantly.

"Who cares what its name is!" Alena nearly screamed at him. "The point is that _he_ was the one behind it, and he was probably leading you into another one of his attacks on your religion as you spun your stupid story."

Cristo looked at Brey. "Is this true?" he asked. Brey slowly nodded in response. "Why didn't you _tell _me?" the bodyguard exclaimed, taking a step toward the old tutor.

"Spells of this sort usually work better if the castee doesn't know its being cast upon him," Brey calmly explained. "Your mind would have fought it if you had known."

"Why you..." Cristo sputtered in rage. He grabbed the hilt of his sword and lunged towards the old tutor. However, Alena promptly stepped between the two, outstretching her hands.

"I don't believe it!" she sputtered. "We've been on the road for nearly a month and the two of you _still_ haven't changed a bit! You're acting the exact same way when we first started off in Surene." She lowered her arms, giving Cristo a trusting look that he would not charge through her to get to Brey.

"I personally can't take much more of this," she continued. "So, either it stops here, or we'll just go back!" At that, the princess wandered back to her log and sat back down, grumbling incoherently.

Cristo stood still, his sword still in his hand but no longer raised as he took in Alena's words. Brey, too, sat still, absorbing her words. After a moment, the old tutor muttered, "She's right."

Both Cristo and Alena looked at him, somewhat surprised Brey would have agreed. "Think about it," he continued, looking up at his companions. "We've wandered endlessly through the harsh climate of the Santeem Mid-Range, eluded searching parties, and single-handedly even saved an entire village from the tyrannical dictatorship of a creature with control over wild, dangerous wolves. And what do we have to show for it? Hardly anything."

Brey's words hit Alena and Cristo even harder than the princess' did. They considered their current predicament, each with different agendas, yet all working towards the same goal. Their battle prowess and magical abilities had increased over the journey, their understanding of each other had grown as hidden, dark chambers of their souls had at times surfaced. And, in the end, they were no different than before, nothing to show for their growth.

After a few moments of the silence, Brey broke it. "Alena's right when she said we are going to have stop this petty bickering," he said to Cristo. "As we near the Wild Lands, we are going to have to be on our feet to watch out for bands of orcs that inhabit that realm. We cannot do this effectively if we are constantly putting each other down. We have to be able to trust one another if we are going to get through safely."

"You're... she's..." Cristo stuttered, turning his head between his companions. After a moment, he finally heaved a sigh, shrugged his shoulders, and said, "You're both right. I was acting foolishly, and selfishly, and-"

"We get the point," Brey said, holding up a hand to stop Cristo's characteristic repenting. "So, as of now, I will no longer play cruel practical jokes on you like I did today." The bodyguard nodded thankfully.

Brey then looked towards Alena, who had been watching in satisfaction that her companions had been able to resolve their differences civilly. "We'll just practice our spells on the Princess," he said with a light cackle.

Alena's eyes widened in horror, then furrowed her brows, charging at her old tutor with a playful tackle. The two of them tumbled into the dusty road and tossed about, the princess grasping the old tutor in a light chokehold. Cristo, feeling somewhat left out, charged forth to Brey's "rescue" as the three of them play-fought in the dusty road.

* * *

Later that day, when their camp had been packed up, the three travelers continued their journey. It was not long before they fell into their usual formation, Alena leading with Cristo slightly behind to help the slower Brey in case his old age caught up with him as they walked.

The path they walked on was the Old Merchant Road, a route merchants from the eastern countries would traverse in ancient times and, if too poor to come to Santeem by ship, still did. However, it was a seldom-used road and the surrounding forest had been quick to reclaim its domain. Old trees towered on either side, younger ones sprouting on the very edges of the grassy path. Caravan trails could still be made out beneath the small grasses and bushes that dotted the road but weather and time had conspired to nearly wipe out the legacy of ancient trade. Still, the Old Merchant Road was noticeable enough not to get lost in the surrounding forest and the wayfarers made good time during the day.

It was near sunset, though, when the three of them picked up the sound of activity ahead.

"What is it?" Cristo asked as he strained to hear.

"I don't know," Brey muttered. "I think it would be best if we made a discreet approach. It could be just a caravan or wayfarer but, being close to the Wild Lands, it is best not to take any chances." The others nodded in agreement and they stealthily approached the source of the noise in the surrounding forest.

Soon they came upon the cause of noise. On the road was a small wagon with two strange beasts at the front. One was crying out in a panicked screech, while the other seemed to be asleep! On top of the wagon was a single man, wielding a small hatchet to try to keep his attackers at bay.

The attackers were six humanoid creatures, though slightly smaller than an average man was. They had mottled, brown and orange skin, with large, pointed ears and squinty eyes. Their hands were small, sharp claws and a thin tongue too long to fit in their mouths hung loosely as they attacked the helpless man.

"What _are_ those things?" Alena asked, nearly entranced by the sight. "Are they orcs?"

"No," Brey said, a frown forming on his aged face as he gave his reply. "Troglodytes."


	3. Chapter 2: With All Sorts

Chapter 2: With All Sorts

Cristo stared in disbelief at Brey, not expecting the reply he had given the princess. "Troglodytes?" he repeated, his eyes wide. "I thought you said they only live in the high mountains."

"So I thought," the old tutor mumbled, just as dumbfounded by the sight before them.

"Well," the bodyguard said, "what are they doing down here in the Wild Lands?"

"I wish I knew," Brey replied, more to himself than to his companion.

"You two may want to figure it out," Alena said, glaring at the two men, "but that man over there needs help! If you two won't do anything about it, I _will_!" At that, the princess leapt out from the bush, her thorn whip already in her hand as she charged the battle scene with a definite, though less-than-intimidating, battle cry. Cristo looked at Brey for a moment and the old tutor nodded before standing up, mentally preparing his 'Icebolt' spell.

The bodyguard stood up as well and began casting a spell of his own. Unlike the 'Sap' spell Brey had cast upon him earlier in the day, the spell Cristo was preparing had a directly opposite effect, increasing the thickness of the castee's skin in a magical, protective layer against normal forms of attacks. Such spells were usually only learned by high ranking clerics following the faith of Zenithism but Cristo's faith in the religion was so strong he had been able to attain this small portion of power during their wanderings as a mere apprentice cleric.

He performed the correct incantations with his hands, gave a silent prayer to his God, Master Dragon, and spoke, "Upper!", releasing the spell towards its target: the Princess of Santeem.

Invisible waves of energy coursed from Cristo's fingertips and rapidly flew towards the charging Alena, entering her skin without any pain. Instantly, her skin began to thicken, attaining an almost leathery texture. While it would not deflect all blows, the magical protection would still halt strikes that could normally be fatal.

As she made her rush, Alena _did_ notice the thickening of her skin. However, she did _not_ attribute the cause of it towards Cristo's spell. Instead, as Brey had lied to her without her knowing, she figured the cause of her skin thickening was due to the fact her adrenaline was surging through her body. It did not make much sense but then she had never been all that good at biology during her tutorials.

As she made her charge towards the troglodytes, three of them turned in surprise while the other three either ignored or did not hear her battle cry as they continued to get at the man on the wagon. Alena did not think much of it, though, as she was already committed to her attack.

She lashed out with her whip at the closest one, angling the weapon to catch the monster around its throat. Her aim was true and the troglodyte found several tiny but sharp thorns biting into its neck. The princess yanked back, attempting to bring the troglodyte down. However, its resistance was much stronger than Alena had anticipated and she failed in her attempt.

The monster started to claw at the whip, attempting to get it off its neck. The only thing Alena felt she could do in the situation was to keep pulling, perhaps choking the thing to death if it would not fall.

The princess was so absorbed in bringing down her immediate opponent that she forgot about the other two troglodytes until they outflanked her. Keeping her right hand on the whip, Alena raised her left arm to perhaps deflect the impending attack from that side. However, her right was unprotected and she clenched her teeth as she waited for the pain that would no doubt ensue.

It did not come, though, as a high-pitched screech of pain emitted from the troglodyte on her right. She briefly turned her attention there just in time to see the monster go flying away from her, a four-foot long icicle buried in its abdomen.

Reminding herself to yet again thank Brey for his impeccable timing with the 'Icebolt' spell, Alena was able to turn her attention back to the other troglodyte.

The monster, somewhat startled to see its companion so easily incapacitated, was slow to react when Alena sent her arm in a backhand smash across its face. A crimson fluid splashed out from the troglodyte's mouth and it stumbled to the ground, the force of the blow so strong it completely lost its balance.

Satisfied with the minor victory, Alena turned her attention back to the troglodyte still in her whip's hold. Growing tired with the constant struggle, the princess focused all of her strength and pulled hard on her whip with the intention of bringing the monster down. Her pull was greater than she had expected, though, and its neck snapped. A strangled, gurgling sound came from the dying monster as it slumped to the ground.

Not even two weeks ago, Alena would have been disturbed from the results of her actions. However, having killed kaskos hoppers, rabidhounds, strange humanoid chameleons, and even nearly killing a fellow human being all in the last month, the princess' morals had become somewhat numb when it came to creatures already bent on harming others.

Still, not expecting to crush the creature's neck with her whip, she was momentarily distracted in surprise. "Princess!" she vaguely heard Cristo's warning but it was already too late. The remaining three troglodytes, finally reacting to her presence, charged the princess.

Alena did not have enough time to properly defend herself and the monsters bowled her over, bringing her to the ground where they were able to rake their claws at her skin. While the magically enhanced skin greatly protected her against their attacks, even these defenses would not be enough if no one came to her aid.

Fortunately, Brey had seen the outcome even before the troglodytes had begun their charge and ordered Cristo to go and help the Princess. The bodyguard was only too happy to comply and promptly rushed forward, his dull and battered copper sword raised high as he charged.

The old tutor would have cast another 'Icebolt' had Alena not been in the way. And, with the Princess under so many monsters, he could not risk one of the spells hitting her. Instead, Brey was forced to resort to the boomerang strapped to his belt. It was much smaller and probably would not kill one of the troglodytes, but it would at least be enough to grab their attention so either Cristo could strike or Alena could break free.

Without anymore hesitation, the old tutor let the weapon go and the boomerang traveled in a slow, though accurate, arc towards its target. It clipped the head of one of the troglodytes and the monster reeled back with a chirping sound, futilely clawing at its head in an attempt to find out what had attacked it. Little did it know the object of its confusion was already safely back in Brey's waiting hand, a smug grin on the old tutor's face as he watched the effects of his actions.

Cristo finally reached the troglodytes and charged the closest one, his sword prepared for a downward chop. The monster, having just looked up from its task on Alena, had enough time to raise its arms in time to block the blow. The force of Cristo's attack, however, was much stronger than the troglodyte had guessed and the blade went through its arms and into its face, leaving a messy, crimson trail in its wake. The troglodyte gave out a high-pitched shriek as it brought two bloody stumps up to its shattered face.

Although amazed at the strength of his attack, the bodyguard did not waste much time before he quickly finished the troglodyte off, stabbing the monster where he guessed its heart was.

Alena had managed to move the remaining troglodyte off, her strength more than a match for the foe. Once she had more maneuverability, the princess recalled her self-defense training the martial artist specialist, Hun, had taught her. If in her current position, it was best to try to reverse the roles.

With remarkable speed, Alena managed to get a booted foot underneath the troglodyte and kicked him backwards. As the monster was sent reeling back the princess leapt up and followed, tackling the monster. They landed with a large cloud of dust, the troglodyte taking the brunt of the impact.

It tried to claw at the princess to get her off but her magically enhanced skin merely brushed the swipes aside, giving Alena the opportunity to finish off her enemy with a solid blow to the monster's skull. A grim smile of satisfaction found its way onto her lips as she felt the bone shatter beneath her tiny fist.

Alena sat still over her dead opponent, lightly breathing as she let the adrenaline in her body subside. Believing the battle was over, she neglected to notice the remaining troglodyte suddenly rise behind her, intent on clawing out the back of her neck. The princess turned around and quickly brought her hands up to block the attack, gasping as she closed her eyes.

However, again, the attack did not come.

She peeked her eyes open and looked up, wondering what had happened. The troglodyte's eyes were wide open in deathly horror as a hatchet had cleaved halfway through its head.

The hatchet withdrew and the monster slumped to the ground, revealing her savior: the man whom she had tried to save before. He offered his hand and Alena eagerly grabbed it, letting him pull her up. "You all right?" he asked once they were eye to eye.

"I was about to ask you the same," Alena muttered, finally getting a good look at the man. He seemed to be just a little older than Cristo and years of hard work and labor were apparent in the lines that formed on his otherwise rugged, shadowed face. From his toughened expression, she could tell he was at least a peasant.

The pair held an awkward silence for a moment, studying each other as their hands were still interlocked. Eventually, the silence was broken when Cristo ran up to Alena, crying, "Princess! Are you all right? Are you hurt? Do you need healing?"

Irritated, Alena let go of the man's hand and threw a deathly glare at her bodyguard. "Of course I'm all right!" she replied, her brow furrowing. "Just a couple of scratches, nothing to get excited about."

She paused for a moment, letting Cristo finally reach her. Once at arm's length, she pushed him away, sending the bodyguard reeling backwards with a stunned expression. "And stop calling me 'Princess'," she added, a playful smile creeping onto her lips.

"Friend?" the man asked, eyeing the bewildered bodyguard with amusement.

"Sort of," Alena muttered. Cristo gave the princess a hurt expression but she said nothing more to restore any of his shattered ego.

The princess noticed Brey going over the bodies of the troglodytes and walked over to her tutor. "They weren't really all that much of a deal," she said to him.

"What?" he mumbled, looking up to her.

"The trogs," she replied. "You made them out to be such a big threat when we were in the mountains and we killed these ones easy enough."

"We were lucky," Brey said. "Raiders like these usually have the element of surprise. We just surprised them instead." He turned to the man and said, "I take it that was how they attacked you?" He nodded. "I thought as much," the old tutor muttered, rubbing his white whiskers.

After a moment, he looked at his companions and said, "One thing is for certain, though. We are going to have to be more on our guard from now on."

The man at that point stepped forward, somewhat timid to interrupt the group's discussion. "Excuse me," he said, "but which way are you heading?"

"We're not really sure," Alena replied. "Through the Wild Lands, that much we're sure of." She paused for a moment, then asked, "Why do you ask?"

"Oh, it was nothing!" the man exclaimed waving his hands. He started to walk to his wagon, stopped, and turned around. "It's just that..."

"What?" Alena asked.

The man sighed, then said, "I'm... on my way to a town called Frenor. It's about a day's travel from here and I was wondering if you would, um, perhaps... uh..."

"Accompany you?" Brey offered, having an idea as to what the man wanted. He nodded sheepishly. The old tutor looked at his companions, silently asking for their input. Cristo merely shrugged as he stood up, knowing his input would not have any relevant impact on the outcome of the group's decision.

At that, everyone turned to Alena, knowing the decision would ultimately rest on her shoulders. After a few seconds' thought, Alena turned to the man and asked, "How big is Frenor?"

His eyes lit up briefly, then replied, "It is actually a center of business for many fishing villages that dot the coastline in this region. Probably around a few thousand people are permanently residing in Frenor, not to mention the merchants that are constantly in and out to deal their wares."

"A few thousand people is a fair amount for this remote area of Santeem," Brey mused, rubbing his white whiskers. He turned to Alena, and added, "If it's not too far off the Merchant Road, it would be worth our while to stop over to get supplies."

"So it's settled then?" the man asked, an optimistic tone in his voice. "We are all going to Frenor?"

The three travelers looked at each other for a moment, silently confirming each other's decision, before Alena cheerfully replied, "I guess it would seem so."

"Great!" the man clapped. He held up his hand and said, "My name is Timothy Renes."

"Alena Sanouch," the princess said, shaking Timothy's hand. The last name given was, of course, fake. However, being wanted people in their own country, Brey had suggested using fake names to cover their tracks whenever possible.

Cristo did not agree, though, relying on Master Dragon's protection rather than deceit to aid them. As a result, the bodyguard introduced himself as, "Cristo Bendard,"-his real name.

Brey, on the other hand, introduced himself as, "James Sanouch." As they had told other people they had come across, Alena and Cristo were taking him on a journey of the country before his time on the earth had passed.

"Now that we all know who we are," Timothy smiled after the introductions were over, "we might as well be on our way." He turned to walk back to his wagon, paused, then tilted his back in the travelers' direction. "By the way," he added, "call me Tim. Timothy is too cumbersome, in my view."

As he made his way back to the wagon, Tim asked his new companions, "Do you think you might be able to give me a hand with my beasts?"

Cristo obediently moved forward to assist, a little intrigued by the strange animals being used to pull the wagon. "What _are_ those things, exactly?" he asked, looking over the creatures from a safe distance from the frantic one.

They seemed to be a cross between a chicken and oxen. There were two large hind legs and two stubby forearms, almost like bird wings but tiny in comparison with the rest of the brown, bulky body, rendering them useless. The head was something of a mystery as well. It seemed that of an eagle and, indeed, a rumbling screech every-so-often escaped the beak of the panicked one.

"They are known as brahmirds," Timothy replied, his voice calm and soothing as he slowly approached the frantic one. "Since beasts of burden are hard to come by in this remote part of the country, we've had to make do with what the wild can provide for us. They're about as useful as oxen but twice as dumb."

At that, he gave a swift kick to the sleeping one, receiving no response but a disturbed snore. "This may take a while," Timothy grumbled, shaking his head in disgust.

However, with Alena, Cristo, and Brey's help, the beasts were eventually prepared for travel again. Timothy climbed back on top of the wagon and took a hold of the reigns. He suggested two people should flank the wagon in case another troglodyte raid occurred while the third rest inside.

Automatically, he suggested Brey take the first break, which was followed by a furious protest from the old tutor. Fortunately for Timothy, Alena was able to calm Brey before he was able to do anything rash, as he was at times known to do when dubbed "old" and "useless".

The rest of the day went without incident. If there were any more troglodyte raiders in the area, they were keeping their distance from the alert party. Therefore, it was with good area covered before they decided to bed down for the night. Cristo prepared a campfire and Timothy cooked some of his dried meat for the group.

Alena watched curiously as the peasant did his work. While on the road, Brey and Cristo had mainly been in charge of their food since the princess did not have any experience when it came to cooking. However, because her traveling companions were nearly as spoiled by their regal surroundings as she was, their meals had been less than satisfying when they began journeying. Once the meat started to emit an amorous odor, she hoped she might be able to catch a few tips on to how to properly cook meat.

"He's sleeping soundly in the wagon," Cristo said upon joining Alena and Timothy. He lightly chuckled, adding, "He would probably never admit it but that battle earlier really tired him out. Should I wake him up for supper?"

"Let him sleep," Alena replied, shaking her head. "If he wants to miss out on this fine supper, it's his loss."

Upon hearing Alena's compliment, Timothy turned his head towards her and asked, "Do you really think so?"

"Think what?" the princess asked, confused by his question.

"Think my cooking is fine?" he replied. "I mean, you haven't even tried it yet and already you are giving it praise."

"Well, it certainly _smells_ better than what I've had in the last couple of weeks," Alena explained, throwing a hinting gaze at Cristo. Both men flushed, each for different reasons.

As it turned out, the meat's aroma did not deceive the final result of Timothy's cooking.

Later, the three of them sat around the campfire and shared a few stories. While Alena and Cristo did not have much to say in the way of tales (Brey had decided to keep their exploits in the village of Tempe a secret from anyone they encountered to cover their trail), Timothy seemed very adept at telling ghost stories.

One such legend told of creatures that appeared in moonless nights of the Wild Lands: blazeghosts. Apparently, they were the tortured souls of people killed by creatures of the Wild Lands and therefore doomed to roam the area for all eternity as Master Dragon could not help those who were slain by monsters created by the Ruler of Evil. Since the Master could do nothing to help them, the abandonment these lost souls felt caused them to burn with hatred. In essence, they had become living flames with strange powers that killed travelers who were foolish enough to traverse the Wild Lands during these moonless nights, adding to their numbers so they would no longer be as lonesome.

"...And," Timothy said as he finished the tale, "many wayfarers who have survived such encounters claim that before the blazeghosts attack, they hide in the campfires of their victims, drawing upon the power of the flames to do their bidding before they kill the unsuspecting travelers."

The camp was quiet for several moments, their fire only letting a _hiss_ or _pop_ escape every so often.

While Alena had enjoyed the ghost story, Cristo was lightly sweating, a worried look in his eyes. The story had obviously unnerved the bodyguard, although for the wrong intentions. "Those poor souls," he breathed. "They truly must be in suffering if even the Master cannot help them."

Seeing an opportunity to have some fun, Timothy said, "'Tis true, their suffering is only more so since they cannot be with the good Master in Zenithia."

He paused for effect, leaning towards Cristo. "You are a man of Zenithism, am I right?"

"I am an apprentice cleric," he replied, a boasting tone in his voice.

"Then perhaps you can help the blazeghosts, Cris" Timothy said, putting an arm on the bodyguard's shoulder. "Perhaps if you pray for them enough tonight, the Master will find it in His will to free them of their torment so they can reside in Zenithia in peace."

Cristo's eyes suddenly lit up and he bolted up, exclaiming, "You're right! I can do it! I must do it! Surely the Master will listen to me if I start now!" At that, the bodyguard started to run off to a secluded area so he could pray without distractions.

"Cristo! Wait!" Alena tried to call to him. "It was only a story! None of it was really true!" Unfortunately, it was too late and Cristo quickly disappeared. She sighed and shook her head in sympathy. Why was it her bodyguard was always at the receiving end of practical jokes?

"It's so easy," Timothy chuckled. Alena looked up at him, wondering if the man had just read her mind.

He turned to face her and said, "Zenithists, I mean. They will believe almost anything you tell them if it has anything to do with their religion." He paused for a moment, a sudden thought entering his head. "You... wouldn't be a Zenithist, would you?" he asked worriedly.

Alena chuckled and replied, "No. I never found the time to become one and the sermons bored me to death."

Her face became a little more serious, though, and she added, "But don't _ever_ do that again. Cristo has had his religion attacked like that before and, while he's taken it in good humor, I can tell that it stings his feelings. I hate to see him hurt like that."

Timothy walked over to the princess and sat down beside her by the fire. "Is he... close to you?" he asked.

She looked at him for a moment, a little startled by his question. "I've known him for a while," she replied, "but we've never been anything but good friends."

"Funny," Timothy muttered. "How he's so protective of you, I'd have guessed differently."

"It's just..." Alena started to explain but quickly caught herself. It would not be a good idea to let him know Cristo was her appointed bodyguard. After all, only a Princess would need a protector.

"Don't let it bother you," she finally said. "We're only good friends. Nothing more and nothing less."

"I see..." Timothy muttered, turning his gaze to the fire.

Alena tilted her head forward, attempting to get back into his vision. "Why do you ask?" she said.

Timothy looked at her, a smile on his face. He took her hand, causing the princess' eyes involuntarily widen.

"You're a very attractive woman, Alena," he started to say but she did not hear much more after that. Her thoughts became removed.

_That's what he was planning,_ she thought in disgust. _All this, just so he can probably have me as a companion_. She had seen similar actions in many lords and nobles who thought they could "charm the Princess," possibly become a suitor and be next in line to take the throne of Santeem when her father passed away. However, she had grown to ignore such attempts to win her heart, finding the lords and nobles boorish.

While Timothy could have no idea she was the Princess of Santeem, he was definitely looking for a relationship with her. And, because of her regal standing, such a relationship could never work. After all, she had no intention of living on the road for the rest of her life. She decided she would have to decline tactfully.

"Tim," she said, interrupting him in mid-sentence. "You are a nice, attractive man." His eyes lit up, suspecting he had succeeded. However, Alena continued.

"But I'm not really looking for a relationship," she said. "Not here and not now."

Alena expected Timothy to have a disappointed look, apologize for his advance, and retrieve his hand from hers. After all, it was what her regal associates did, so why should he be any different?

It was with great surprise, then, when Timothy placed his other hand on her thigh and stated, "That was merely what I asked of you."

Alena's eyes widened with horror. _You sick bastard!_ she thought disgustedly. _You're just like any other peasant!_ She had a fleeting image of suddenly lashing out with her hand and ripping out his genitals for such a perverse thought. However, it was only for a moment and she decided to deal with this civilly; at least, civilly for her.

"Timothy," she started with a sweet smile, "I've killed men for doing what you are doing."

The man stopped his slow lean forward, a stunned look in his eyes. "What?"

"It's true," the princess continued, still smiling sweetly. "One I snapped his neck and the other I tore his face apart. Therefore, you will understand that when I say that I'm not interested-" she grabbed his hand from her thigh, "-it means that I'm not interested in _anything _of the sort! Understand?"

At that, she suddenly twisted Timothy's wrist and the man howled in pain.

Alena could have easily broken his arm if she chose to. However, she had better control over her actions than in previous encounters and was smart enough not to do such a thing. After all, they _were_ traveling companions and Timothy merely needed a quick lesson to correct his behavior.

Once she was satisfied he had endured enough pain, Alena let go of Timothy's wrist and sent the man cringing to the far side of the fire. He looked over it, making sure it was not broken.

After a moment, he glanced up at her and asked, "Is that true? Did you really kill two men for... for...?"

"Yes, my dear," she replied, still smiling sweetly as though she was a prize no man could claim.

Of course, she was exaggerating as one was only severely injured and the other had not even been human. However, just being able to plant that sort of fear into Timothy's head would be enough to make sure he would keep his hands off of her for the remainder of the trip.

* * *

It was clearly a different atmosphere the next day as the travelers continued on the road.

Cristo's expression was somewhat disappointed, a small frown etched onto his face. As could be expected, Master Dragon had not given any sign He would help the blazeghosts and Timothy's ghost story still disturbed him.

Timothy was in a sulky mood. The treatment Alena gave him the night before practically extinguished his otherwise cheery demeanor. Calmly ordering his companions what to do regarding their breakfast, feeding the mounts, and preparing the wagon for travel, the peasant seemed distant from everyone else.

Alena was tired. Her sleep had been fitful, her watch much too long, and the breakfast too filling. Towards noon, she was having trouble staying focused, her eyes at times closing on their own. She needed to take a break and Cristo suggested waking Brey, whom had slept through the morning, and the old tutor had not taken a watch since they started traveling with the wagon. The princess agreed and sauntered to the back of the wagon.

As she climbed into it, Alena called out her tutor's name, telling him to wake up. She was surprised when she saw him wide awake and rummaging through the wagon's storage compartments. "Brey!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing?"

The old tutor turned around in surprise. "What?" he stammered, innocently looking around the many layers of wool and cloth lining the floor. "I was, um, just-"

"You were snooping, weren't you," the princess said, pointing an accusing finger at him.

Brey opened his mouth to defend himself but did not say anything, realizing there was no way of fooling the princess after being caught in the act. "Okay," he muttered, "I was snooping." Before Alena had a chance to lecture him, he held up a hand, quickly adding, "But you will be surprised by what I've found."

Brey rolled back one of the layers of wool and revealed a trove of silver goblets, each jutted with a variety of gems. Alena sucked in her breath, amazed by the quality of the goblets. They were just as lustrous as the kind she saw on display back home.

"Are they...?" she started to ask, flinging a hand in their direction.

"They're very real," replied the old tutor, nodding his head. "And there's similar jewels scattered about in hidden corners of this wagon as well."

"But Tim's not of any noble standing," Alena said. She glanced around the wagon, wondering where else Brey had been able to find Timothy's hidden treasures. Wherever they were, he was good at hiding them. "How can he have such wealth?"

"Probably stolen," Brey said somberly as he put the cloths back to conceal the goblets, "which would make Tim nothing more than a thief; albeit a very successful one but a thief nonetheless."

"What should we do, then?" Alena asked.

"I guess we should confront him," Brey replied, crawling forward, "if anything, to make sure our _own_ supplies will be safe." Alena nodded and crawled out first, followed by her tutor.

She went around one side while he went around the other side, motioning to Cristo to follow him. Soon, all three of them were assembled at the front of the wagon, blocking the brahmirds' path. The stupid beasts probably would have walked over the three travelers had Timothy not reigned them in.

"What's going on?" he asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

"There are some things we need to discuss," Brey said. "We found your treasure hoard and we want to know how you came by them."

Timothy looked around anxiously, fear in his eyes. "H...how did you find them?" he asked with an incredulous look on his face.

"That doesn't matter," Brey said, waving off Cristo who was about to ask the exact same question. The old tutor stepped forward, giving Timothy a penetrating eye. "What _does_ matter is what you are doing with such a collection."

Timothy began to sweat, looking around nervously for a quick escape. Noticing all three of the travelers were standing directly in the path of the brahmirds, an idea came to mind. If he were to snap the reigns, his beasts would more than likely run them over. They could very easily be killed in the process but at least he would remain uncaught. Smoothly, he started to raise his reigns.

Fortunately, Brey noticed and quickly shouted, "Grab him!"

Instantly clueing into her tutor's warning, Alena leapt forward. For one of her size it was an amazing leap as she flew over the brahmirds and easily tackled Timothy before he could react. From there, she threw the helpless man from his seat to the ground.

Cristo did not even wait for an order as he was upon the fumbling man. Timothy tried to kick the bodyguard away but Cristo was able to grab both legs, twisting them painfully to make him submit.

Once Alena and Brey had caught up, the old tutor pinned Timothy to the ground with his walking staff, pointing it uncomfortably close to his neck. "Who are you?" he coldly asked, his eyes threatening.

The nervous man swallowed and the swell in his throat lightly grazed Brey's staff as he did so. "M...my name i...is Tim...Timothy R...Renes, th...that much is t...true," he started as he sweated profusely.

"But you aren't a merchant," Cristo interjected as if he had made the deduction all on his own.

"N...no," Timothy mumbled. He paused for a moment, taking the opportunity to breathe a little. Brey slightly jutted his staff forward, lightly poking the man's throat. Understanding the warning, Timothy quickly continued. "I...I'm n...n...nothing more than... a... thief."

"And you were going to peddle your stolen goods in Frenor, is that your plan?" Brey asked, eyeing the thief with an icy glare.

"No! No!" Timothy quickly replied, nearly jumping up had Brey's staff not been there to stop his advance.

"If not to sell them, then what?"

The thief looked at each of the three people glaring at him. He realized he was going to have to tell them the truth, to tell them of his embarrassing reason for his journey. Heaving a heavy sigh, he muttered, "I... have hopes to... win the Princess of Santeem's affection with my stolen baubles."


	4. Chapter 3: Frenor

Chapter 3: Frenor

Alena blinked a few times, dumbfounded by Timothy's answer. "What did you say?" she asked, wondering if she had heard right.

"I... I... said I... was hoping... to... win the... Princess of Santeem's... affection," the thief repeated, his eyes now turned away as if his reason was the greatest sin in the world.

"M...my affection...?" she mumbled, her eyes wide with bewilderment. However, Timothy did not hear her, wallowing in his own self-pity and almost ignorant of his surroundings.

A sharp, bony elbow jutted into Alena's ribs and she instinctively flinched, giving a nasty glare in Brey's direction. She was about to demand an explanation but her tutor shook his head, silently informing her to remain quiet. The princess reluctantly nodded twice, mainly out of curiosity as to what Brey had in mind.

Pressing his staff into Timothy's neck a little more, the old tutor ordered him to stop his sulking and stand up. The thief quickly scrambled up but found difficulty in controlling his moping. "Now listen," Brey said with such coldness in his voice that even his companions shivered. "We have little care about your practices or your plans. However, if we are going to be traveling together, we have to know this much: were you planning on robbing us?"

Timothy blinked as though stunned by the question. "No, not once was it my intent," he meekly replied.

Brey nodded, satisfied with the thief's response. "Here's our proposal, then," he continued. "We will continue to travel together. After all, there still may be trogs about. Once we reach Frenor, we will take a third of your treasures as payment for our services. In return, we won't make any mention of your origins to the..."

He paused, finding it somewhat difficult to say the last of his conditions without cracking a smile. "...To the Princess should we see her," he managed to finish.

Timothy's eyes widened and he nodded exuberantly, believing he was getting off easy for the situation he was in. After all, losing a third of the treasures he had was not really that much of a deal. He still had plenty to spare, more than enough to impress anyone in the hierarchy.

Brey nodded, satisfied with the deal he just made. "If you don't mind, then," he said, "the three of us would like to be alone for a moment." The thief hastily nodded again and quickly darted into his wagon, probably to make sure none of his treasures were missing.

The moment Timothy was out of hearing distance, Alena turned to Brey and asked with wide eyes, "You don't think that he..."

"No," the old tutor replied the unsaid question, shaking his head. "There could be no possible way he knows you're the Princess of this country. If he's truly from this region, he's probably never ventured anywhere near the castle."

"There's one thing that really confuses me, though," Cristo interjected. "Why would he be travelling to Frenor, in the opposite direction from the path he should be taking?"

His companions looked at him, somewhat startled by the bodyguard's observation. Sensing their immediate confusion of his statement, Cristo added with a shrug, "Well, he seems fairly well stocked for a lengthy trip. Why _would_ he need to go to this village we're going to?"

"That _is_ strange," Brey muttered, turning his gaze back to the wagon. "There are no shipping lanes from this region of Santeem and, as far as I know, nothing that would even hint of an underground syndicate where those jewels would fetch a large sum of gold."

"You don't suppose Tim lied to us, do you?" Alena asked, looking at the wagon as well.

"I really can't be sure," Brey replied, shrugging. "He seemed sincere enough but then thieves are notorious for weaseling their way out of difficult situations. Still, as long as we're travelling companions, we'll just have to trust him."

* * *

Weser had been sodden with rain and, going through the small village in the night, along with the unpleasant events that occurred there the same night Alena had left the castle, the three travelers could only have dark thoughts of the place. Likewise, Surene could be no comparison, the city's majestic Zenithian Temple and massive architecture outdoing some of mankind's greatest achievements. And poor, pathetic Tempe, rotting and being reclaimed by the surrounding forests, was in no position to be regarded as an ideal village. Even the three travelers' intervention and liberation of the miserable hamlet was no guarantee of its recovery but probably only delaying the inevitable.

With such grand or terrible places to draw a comparison with, Frenor was indeed much better than what the travelers could have expected.

Nestled comfortably in the forested bowl of a broad valley, several trails stretched out from the center like a spider's web; the village was indeed a center of commerce in this remote region of Santeem to have so many roads and trails converging in one place. Yet, from high on the bowl's rim, the actual village of Frenor could not be made out. It seemed to be hidden in the middle of a dense forest, away from the eyes of troglodytes and orcs. Not until they were well into the valley's bowl did the travelers begin to see small houses.

Again, their previous encounters with peasant villages were a deceiving example of peasant architecture, as the dwellings of Frenor were very well kept and, at times, somewhat decorative with ivy growing along the chimneys or fences.

"These peasants must be wealthy to live in such a place," Cristo commented as they walked to the center of Frenor.

"Not really," Timothy, whom had remained relatively quiet throughout the rest of the trip, mentioned. "There are just plenty of resources to work with here in the Wilds. With at least one house to use as an example, the peasants can easily copy others."

He paused for a moment, taking a lengthy look at a two story, brick house with black, wooden frames along the windows and doors. "Of course," he added at length, "most of the people who live here are merchants, usually wealthy to begin with."

Brey, sitting beside the thief on the wagon, turned to him. "Tell me, Tim," he said, "why do people that are wealthy enough to build houses like these remain in the Wild Lands when they could have a better life of luxury in Surene or Endor?"

"Dunno," Timothy replied, shrugging his shoulders. "Many reasons, I guess. Some don't think they have what it takes to make it in the big city. Others had no choice but to come to a remote region because the competition is less harsh here. And then there are those who just prefer open country to bustling cities."

Brey raised a white, bushy eyebrow. "And what of yourself?" he asked with a slight smile. "Surely a thief as successful as you would prefer the larger cities where wealth is far more abundant."

Timothy smiled knowingly at the old tutor. "It's all a matter of what's available in my case. I'm a wanted man in Bonmalmo and Endor because of my career. I couldn't get any ship transportation since my face was posted at every port in those two countries so Santeem was really the only way I could have gone. I would have been in Surene by now, actually, making myself a decent living in the Thieves' Guild there, if that cursed village had not been in my way... what was the name of it? Tempy?"

"Tempe, actually," Brey corrected. "The last syllable is pronounced '_eh_'!"

"Fine," the thief muttered. "Temp-_eh-_!"

Alena overheard their conversation and sped up her pace, catching up with the two conversing men. "You don't have to worry about the village anymore. The curse has been lifted, so-"

"I don't really care about that route anymore," Timothy interrupted, flinging an arm up in disgust. "Once I grace the Princess with my charms and my fortune, she'll take me with her home and... well... who knows? I may end up becoming the next in line for the Santeem throne!" He finished his sentence with a proud _thump_ on his chest, raising his chin high in the air.

Alena rolled her eyes, mumbling Brey would become a Zenithist before _that_ ever happened. Somehow, the old tutor overheard and let out a soft chuckle in agreement.

As the travelers continued down the road towards the center of the town, the density of houses gradually increased but something seemed amiss. Despite the increase of lodgings, no people were seen about. Apple orchids were being left unattended to, livestock in pastures were moving without owners, and gates were swinging wide open as if begging thieves to rob the houses they protected.

"By the Master, I hope we haven't entered another Tempe," Cristo muttered, looking around worriedly.

"It doesn't seem that way," Brey said, looking about with curiosity. "Tempe was in a state of ruin and decay when we arrived. Everything seems fine here, just there are no people about."

Timothy made a scoffing sound, then said, "Are all of you idiots?" The remark drew an acidic glare from the three travelers and the thief could not help but flinch from their gaze. "Sorry," he quickly apologized, "but I thought I already told you. The Princess of Santeem is visiting here so everybody is probably wherever she is, anxious to get a look at a real monarch!"

Again, Timothy's explanation drew confused stares from his companions.

"This is all too confusing," Cristo said, scratching the back of his head. "How can the Princess already be in the village when we just-"

"What Cristo means," Brey interjected before the bodyguard could give away their secret, "is _why_ she would come here of all places. I mean, I'm sure the Princess of Santeem would much rather be lazily lounging in her regal settings at the castle than staying at some shabby inn at the very most remote part of her country."

Timothy merely shrugged in reply, turning his attention back to the road as one of his brahmirds seemed to be straying a bit.

Brey shook his head and turned his gaze downward to think things through. It was becoming more and more apparent the "Princess of Santeem" was in Frenor. Since no one could know Alena was coming here, that would only leave the conclusion someone was impersonating the princess. Could someone _really_ be that good of an impersonator or were the villagers just more gullible than the old tutor had already thought.

A few minutes later, the travelers passed a house where a young woman wearing an elegant dress hurried out and ran right in front of the brahmirds. The beasts, too stupid to realize someone was moving in front of them, kept plodding along. Timothy tried to pull on the reigns but the brahmirds had far too much momentum. Alena, fortunately, recognized the danger immediately.

Springing forth like a stalking predator, the princess leapt at the woman and tackled her out of the brahmirds' path. The two of them rolled over each other for a moment, Alena's agility allowing her to halt her momentum within seconds of the impact. The young peasant woman was not so skilled, though, coming to rest in a mud puddle further down the road.

Alena instantly stood up, realizing she hit the peasant harder than intended. "Gee, I'm sorry," the princess apologized, embarrassingly rubbing the back of her head. She walked over and offered a helping hand up. "Are you-?" she started to say but was violently cut off.

"Look at what you've _done_!" the peasant cried, leaping at Alena with anger. "My dress! It's _ruined_!" Indeed, several mud stains were smeared across the once elegant dress and small tears lined the hems.

The woman looked like she was about to physically lash out against Alena and the princess held up an arm defensively, hoping she would not have to get into a fist fight with an obviously inferior opponent. However, the young woman burst into tears and huddled herself in the mud as she pitifully wept.

Cristo, first to catch up with the pair, stared bewildered at the weeping woman. He glanced at Alena and asked, "What did you do?"

"_I_ didn't do anything," the princess said, surprised her bodyguard would automatically blame her. "I just saved her and she goes berserk on me."

Brey and Timothy arrived at the tiny gathering and the old tutor gently knelt beside the young woman. "Can it really be that terrible your dress is ruined?" he asked. "I mean, it can easily be washed, can't it?" Alena and Cristo's eyes widened in amazement, not once expecting Brey to show sympathy towards a peasant.

"It...it's just th...that I won't be...be able t...to impress th...the P...Princess l...like this!" the young woman cried between wails. Brey looked up at Alena with a raised eyebrow but the princess could only offer a confused shrug.

"Tim," the old tutor said, "take her home and see what you can do for her. Is there an inn we can meet up?"

"There's only really one worth staying at, near the center of town," the thief replied as he knelt down to help the weeping peasant up.

The old tutor nodded and said, "Fine. We'll book a room there and talk about the final arrangements of our deal later tonight." Timothy nodded and helped the weeping woman into her home.

Once they were gone, Alena said to her tutor, "Are you sure we should leave him alone like this? What if he takes off?"

"I don't think he will," Brey replied thoughtfully. "He said he was coming here to perhaps impress the Princess of Santeem with his wealth and, if what I believe is true, this false Princess is already here in Frenor. He won't leave so long as she is here."

"We can wait for him to come out, then," Cristo said.

Brey shook his head. "I'm more interested in finding out who this impersonator is," he said. He gave a sly grin to Alena, adding, "And I'm sure the _real _Princess of Santeem is anxious to find out as well."

Alena's eyes widened with shock, wondering just _how_ the old tutor knew the curiosity had been eating at her ever since she first heard someone was impersonating her with so much success.

* * *

As the travelers proceeded deeper into Frenor, they saw a few more people but it was not really a substantial amount: a farmer tending his garden and some children playing in the street. Alena began to wonder had anyone known she was coming to this or any other village, would a similar circumstance occur? Would everyone abandon his or her daily duties just for a glimpse of her? Did she _really_ have _that_ kind power in this country?

Residing in the castle for almost all of her life, Alena had only known the power she carried there, and it pretty much was a servant attending to her every need. Lords, vassals, merchants, and peasants would bow nobly to her in the throne room and people would treat her with respect. It was probably the most perfect setting for anyone to grow up in. As a result, Alena never really thought much of the implications of everyone's actions around her. There seemed to be people out there who would risk their lives just to catch a glimpse of her.

Yet, the thought of having that much power made Alena's stomach churn in the most unsettling of ways. People respected her, which was fine, but for all the wrong reasons. They respected her merely as a figurehead because they were brought up to respect her as the Princess of Santeem, a person who, aside from her father and Reverend Bishops, had the highest authority in the country.

However, they did not respect her as an individual. No one knew the person behind the crown. They did not know she was capable of destroying solid, brick walls or that her fighting prowess could be the envy of some of the most hardened warriors. They did not even respect her as a human being, capable of feeling emotions like them; of being able to hate, love, cry, laugh, or even respect them in return.

Was this why she had so desired to go on this journey? To gain the respect she needed from others not only as the Princess of Santeem but also as Alena Santeem?

"I think we've found the place we're looking for," Brey remarked dryly, interrupting Alena's thoughts.

"Which place was that?" the princess asked, following her tutor's gaze. She had been so lost in her own thoughts she had not even realized the three of them had arrived in Frenor's market square. Shop stands lined the town's center of commerce, with two-story buildings nestled behind them but still just beyond the surrounding forest's reach. However, the central market was not bustling with activity, at least not as one would have expected.

The only source of activity was in the southern half of the square. It seemed every villager had converged just beyond a single stand and the mob outside it was immense! The constant whispers and buzzing of "How exciting that a Princess is here" and "Do you think we'll be able to see the Princess" made a roar louder than a swarm of angry hornets. The travelers had not even reached the center of the square before needing to push and shove their way through the crowd. Even though their efforts were valiant, no amount of strength would be able to get them to the scene of everyone's attention.

"Alena!" Brey called out, needing to raise his voice in order to be heard over the crowd's murmuring. "Can you hoist me on your shoulders so I can get a better view?"

"Why not get Cristo to do it?" Alena asked.

"He's probably not strong enough to hold me up," the old tutor replied, drawing a pained glare from the bodyguard.

Sighing, the princess did as she was asked and, within moments, Brey had a better view of the surrounding area. While Alena had shown some amazing feats of strength during their travels, even _she_ could not hold him up for an extended length of time. "Hurry up and tell us what you see, old man," she complained, beginning to feel the strain on her slender shoulders.

"I can't really see anything, this mob is so thick," Brey said, "but it looks as though your impersonator is doing some shopping. I can't make out her face but, seeing how her dress is quite elegant, it can be understood how these peasants are so easily fooled.

"Hold on! There seems to be some sort of movement. Two men have just surrounded her and...oh, oh! Quick! Get me down!"

"Why?" Alena asked, then suddenly found the crowd beginning to move to her right.

Several people mindlessly shoved her aside, causing her to lose her balance. She and Brey came tumbling down, the old tutor receiving the brunt of the impact from being so high. Alena was able to spring into a defensive kneel to stand up against the mob but Brey was not nearly as fast and had to resort to pitifully covering himself to avoid being trampled. Cristo, though, had not even been paying attention to Brey's warning and was instantly swept away by the crowd, calling out Alena's name in the futile hope she might be able to save him before they became separated.

It was over in only a few moments and Alena could not help but cough from the cloud of dust the crowd of peasants had left in their wake. "Brey?" she called out between coughs, trying to find her tutor in the settling dust. His form soon emerged, still huddled in a protective ball. "Are you all right, Brey?" the princess asked, finally finding the strength to stand back up. No answer came from the old tutor, though.

"Brey?" Alena timidly called out but still no answer came forth. Suddenly fearing the worst, the princess rushed forward and knelt down by him, shaking him violently. "Brey! Are you all right? Are you hurt?"

After seconds of shaking, a few muffled coughs escaped the old tutor's body. Alena sighed in relief and helped him sit up. "Only my dignity is," Brey grumbled, rubbing the back of his head to see how large the lump was going to form after hitting his head on the ground.

Satisfied the old tutor was going to be fine, Alena asked, "What happened there? Did everyone suddenly decided to leave?"

"Not quite," Brey replied. "It seemed as though the 'Princess' was finished shopping at that stand and moved on to the next one. See?" The old tutor pointed to the right of them, where the crowd had assembled just outside the largest building they had seen in Frenor.

He looked around for a moment and his bushy eyebrows rose in shock. "Where's Cristo?"

"He was trapped in the crowd, I think," Alena replied, peering into the mob in an attempt to find the bodyguard. "Oh, wait, there he is."

Sure enough, Cristo could be seen shoving his way out of the crowd. He eventually forced his way out of the main perimeter and instantly rushed toward his companions. "Are you all right?" he hastily asked, his question more directed towards Alena than Brey.

"_We're_ fine," the old tutor remarked dryly, "but did you happen to see where the imposter went?"

"Inside that building, I think," he replied, rubbing the back of his neck. "I wasn't really paying attention to where she was going, trying to get out of there and all." The bodyguard knelt down and helped Brey onto his feet.

Once he stood up, the old tutor gave a frantic gaze around the area. "Where's my walking staff?" he asked hastily.

"Over there," Cristo said, pointing to the left.

"No, isn't that it?" Alena suggested, pointing to the right.

Brey hobbled over to inspect both pieces. "No," he muttered grimly, "I think you're both right." He picked one of the broken fragments and threw it at the ground in disgust, cursing violently as he did. "Damn the Master! It was my favorite one, too!" Cristo could not help but flinch at Brey's words but offered to fix it as best as he could.

Still muttering a few choice curses, Brey turned his attention back to the mob and the large building they were assembled outside of. "Any idea as to what building that could be?" he asked, rubbing his white whiskers. His only replies were a pair of helpless shrugs from his companions.

After a few moments of thought, the old tutor turned to Alena and said, "I have a difficult task in mind for you."

Sighing, the princess replied, "What is it?"

"I need you to get to the other side of that mob and get a closer look at the imposter," he explained.

Alena's eyes widened in surprise. "Why do you want _me_ to do it?"

"You're the only one of us who can," Brey calmly replied, patting her slender shoulders with reassurance.

The princess looked at her tutor for a moment, then turned her gaze to the mob, the implications of her daunting task hitting her confidence with the force of one of her berserk-induced punches. Still, it was merely another challenge and she had faced seemingly impossible tasks before only to come away the victor. Why should this time be any different? Heaving a heavy sigh, Alena straightened her shoulders and strode forth to make her way through the crowd.

The initial penetration was not difficult as the perimeter was no thicker than before. However, had she thought the streets of Surene and Endor were some of the busiest centers of the world, they could hardly compare to the level of activity within this mob.

Again Alena found trouble moving the deeper she went. Trying to channel the dizzying murmurs and whispers from the crowd away from her senses, the princess formed her arms into a wedge and concentrated on finding any weak spots in the tightly packed mob. Within moments, all she could see around her were bodies, every one of them unrecognizable and forgettable from the rest. It just seemed as though the sea of peasants was never ending.

What had been merely seconds seemed to last for several minutes as her efforts to penetrate further into the mob were rewarded with meager steps at a time. Elbows, feet, shoulders, and waists seemed to find every tender part of her body, giving her some major bruising.

The peasants were a very determined folk, not one of which was willing to give up their space without a good fight. Alena had to work and sweat to gain every inch of space. Whenever she believed she saw the end in sight, an uncountable number of peasants seemed to appear to stop any further advances.

The trend continued for some time before it abruptly ceased. The crowd quite suddenly ended and it caught her by surprise. She stumbled forward headfirst into the tree-trunk-like chest of an oversized man. It was like running into a stone wall and Alena could not help but fall back on her rear, rubbing her painful head.

The clumsy act brought the laughter of every peasant who saw her. Given the extent of the crowd's size, the roar was loud enough to wake even a sleeping brahmird. "Great," Alena mumbled to herself cynically. "Not the best way to present oneself."

Regaining whatever composure she had left, Alena stood up and straightened her shoulders, looking squarely at the large man before her. He was perhaps the largest man she had ever seen, rivaled only by a few of the gladiators she had witnessed in her youth in Endor. He merely wore cloth pants held up by a string belt, displaying his well-defined, tanned chest, shoulders, and arms to everyone present. Hardly any hair lined his shiny scalp and his face was devoid of emotion. With his arms folded across his chest, the large man clearly was an intimidating sight.

In fact, intimidation was probably his only purpose as he appeared to be guarding the door to the building where Cristo had guessed the imposter went into. Above the door was a decorative sign reading _Frenor's Finest Inn_.

The large man studied the princess for a moment, then said in a deep, rumbling voice, "And just where do you think _you're_ going, young man?"

Unconsciously, Alena moved her hand to her head to see if her leather cap was still on, which it was not. Did she look _that_ much like a boy with her hair cut short or was this monster just blinded by all the muscle in his body? Judging from the surprised whispers that followed from the mob, mainly consisting of,"Is that really a man?", Alena guessed the latter was more the truth.

"I'm going to get a room for myself and my companions," Alena said defiantly, building some confidence in herself. "We heard this was the finest inn of all Frenor, so if you will excuse me..."

The princess started to move forward but was instantly stopped by a large hand on her breast. Her eyes rose with instinctive shock and she very nearly verbally lashed out at the large man had his next words not unnerved her.

"I'm afraid I cannot let you stay here," he said. "There is already a Princess staying here and she does not need the likes of common trash soiling her space. Now _shove off_!"

With that he roughly pushed Alena back down, injuring her pride more than her body. More laughter erupted from the crowd and the humility rising within the princess was more than she could bear. She would show this overgrown monstrosity she was not one to be toyed with. Steeling her eyes on her target, Alena sprung forth like a hunting cat in waiting.

The large man, who was laughing with the crowd, had no idea what hit him.

A sharp knee to his groin caused him to double over, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as he instinctively grabbed the wounded area. Taking advantage of her opponent's forward slouch, Alena grabbed him by the head. Every peasant gave a stunned gasp as the small princess managed to pick the large man up and flip him over her shoulders. The grunt of pain that came from the large man's chest as he landed confirmed Alena's quick victory.

However, she was not finished with him yet. She wanted to make him pay for humiliating her like that. Before he knew it, she was on the large man's chest, his arm already in her hands. A simple twist would render it useless for a good month or so, a decent lesson for placing his hand on her breast.

She hesitated upon catching the feared glimpse of a few peasants who would witness her grisly attack. It did not take her long to realize the implications of her actions. This was nearly the same position she was in when she had brutally attacked the innkeeper at Weser! She was reacting on pure instinct, without any consideration for her victim. Had she not grown at all since then? Was she doomed to repeat these berserk rages whenever her pride was injured?

She dropped the arm of the still groaning man and stood up. Forgetting the reason she even came to confront him, Alena started to move back to the mob. The peasants gave her a wide, terrified path to move through but the princess did not notice as she was absorbed in her own thoughts.

It was not long before she left the mob and was greeted by an anxious Cristo. He repeatedly asked her what had happened and whether she was hurt but the princess paid him no heed.

Instead, she made her way directly to her tutor. Once he was within her reach, she timidly stated, "I did it again."

Brey very nearly asked her what she was referring to but, judging from the commotion he had heard on the other side of the mob and the space the peasants had given the princess as she came back, he had a good guess. Besides, he had seen this face on Alena a few times before. "Are you all right?" he asked, raising a bushy eyebrow.

The princess took in a shaky breath, then replied, "I...I think I'll be fine. It just... stunned me for a moment."

"Would you like to tell me what happened?" Brey asked sympathetically.

"No..." Alena mumbled, looking away. She could not constantly keep falling onto her tutor's shoulders whenever her berserk rages injured or even killed someone. After all, it was not his responsibility to deal with the consequences. This was something she was going to have to get over herself.

"No," she said again, this time with more optimism. "I'll be fine. We have other things to worry about right now." Brey seemed satisfied with her answer, and nodded approvingly.

"Well, then," the old tutor said, "were you able to get a good look at your impersonator?"

Alena shook her head and replied, "They wouldn't let me through the front door. The building's an inn and, since they think I'm staying there, they're keeping everyone else out. I guess they think I'd be impressed by kicking all of the peasants out."

"Maybe not you," Brey noted, "but many other members of the social elite would. There is quite a gap between peasants and princesses.

"Anyway, it doesn't solve our problem," he muttered, looking up at the inn.

Cristo, whom had mainly remained out of the conversation, stepped forward. "What problem is that?" he asked but Brey did not reply.

He noticed something about Alena's mannerisms ever since she returned. She periodically was gazing at the building where her imposter was residing. The old tutor had a suspicion regarding her actions but he still did not have enough evidence to confront the princess about it.

Suddenly, a high-pitched shriek interrupted his thoughts. "Oh, no! Am I too late?" The source of this shriek came from a young woman sprinting into the town square, the very same woman whom they had ran into at the edge of Frenor. She was now wearing a very plain orange dress, probably something she had hurriedly put together to still look nice in front of a member of the hierarchy. She bounded to the edge of the mob and started jumping up and down in an attempt to see over the heads of everyone.

Alena could not help but shake her head with disgust. It really was ridiculous how these peasants acted, especially to someone who was not even who they all thought.

Timothy soon could be seen lagging behind as he was gasped for air, his pace a sluggish run. He obviously had a difficult time keeping up with the excited peasant woman. Upon seeing their temporary companion, Alena suddenly had a thought come to her mind and a plan to perhaps get them into the inn.

"Brey," she muttered, leaning over while keeping her eye on Timothy, "I need your help for a moment. Will you follow my lead?"

The old tutor looked up at her for a moment, a confused gaze in his eyes. "Your 'lead'?" he repeated, somewhat stunned by the princess' request. Alena looked at him and smiled knowingly, a strange glimmer in her eyes that Brey had only seen a few other times. It intrigued him and he nodded.

Alena strode forth to intercept Timothy, Brey hobbling behind. Once in hearing distance, the princess called out, "Having a little bit of trouble?"

After a few _puffs_, Timothy replied, "It's unbelievable how fast these young peasant woman move when they're motivated." He paused to take the opportunity to rest his hands on his knees and take in a few deep breaths.

Alena patiently waited, letting the thief catch his breath. With what she had planned for him, he was going to need it. "I'm afraid you missed the show," the princess said at length.

Still catching his breath, Timothy managed to look up and say, "What?"

"The Princess," Alena explained. "She's gone inside that inn and the innkeeper isn't letting anyone in."

"Probably just wants her all to himself, the old goat," Timothy grumbled, finally standing back up but still breathing heavily.

"Timothy," Alena lightly sang, sweetly smiling as she looked him directly in the eyes, "you _are_ an experienced thief, right?"

"Right..." he replied slowly, nervously looking back. The last time she had smiled at him like that, he had received a severe arm-twisting.

"Then you are adept at breaking into places, am I right?"

"What are you...?" Timothy started to say, then his eyes widened. "Oh, no!" he said, backing up as he shook his hands. "I am _not_ going to help you break into that inn. The deal was we were going to help each other until we got to Frenor and we've arrived in Frenor. If you want in there, you're going to have to do it yourself! I want no part in it!"

"I see," Alena sighed, shaking her head. "That's too bad." The princess had expected this, even counted on it. She turned to her tutor and said, "Sap him!"

Quickly realizing what the princess had in mind, the old tutor performed the incantation and spoke, "Sap!" Upon uttering the magic word, invisible energy left his outstretched fingertips and sunk into Timothy's skin.

Almost instantly, the thief's skin began to shrivel, clinging to his bones like some sort of undead creature. Once Timothy realized what was happening, he very nearly screamed out in terror. "What's going on?" he cried. "What's happening to me?"

"A curse has been laid upon you," Alena said, trying to remain as serious as possible. The sight of Timothy fumbling about in an attempt to discover the cause of his tightening skin was a funny sight given the fact it would return to normal after a short while.

"A serious curse," Alena continued. "Your skin will shrivel like this until you do as we ask of you. In such a state, you can never hope to attract the Princess like you planned." Indeed, Timothy's appearance was already drawing the apprehensive stares of many peasants. Alena paused, trying to create some dramatic implications if the thief refused her offer. "So, do we have a deal?"

"Yes! Yes!" Timothy cried, shuddering at the feeling of his bones protruding into his skin.

"Very good," Alena smirked. "The curse should wear off in a few minutes so why don't we go start making some plans?" At that, the princess strode off, grabbing the cringing Timothy as they walked.

Brey could not help but lightly cackle at Alena's ingenuity, even if it _was_ a little extreme. "Cristo?" Brey called, still keeping his eye on the pair.

The bodyguard walked up, carrying the old tutor's walking staff. It was hastily patched together with a tightly bound cloth at the broken section. "It isn't quite as strong as before," he remarked, making a final check to ensure the cloth was secure.

"It'll do," Brey said, snatching it from him without even testing the staff's strength.

Before the bodyguard could come up with a remark for Brey's rudeness, the old tutor asked, "Did you happen to catch all of that?"

Cristo looked up, watching Alena talk to Timothy about something he could not hear. "Yeah," he said at length. "That was really something how she was able to con him into working for us again."

Brey nodded in agreement. "When you get a chance," he said, "cast 'Upper' on Tim. Since it has the opposite effect as 'Sap', it should reverse the effects of my spell and return his skin to normal before it wears off."

Cristo eyed the old tutor suspiciously. "Why do _you_ care about Tim's well-being?" he asked, rubbing his chin.

"Oh, no reason," Brey was quick to reply. "I just don't think anyone should have to endure such a spell for so long." However, Cristo could tell he was not telling the full truth and kept eyeing Brey in an attempt to coax it out of him.

Realizing he would not be able escape Cristo's scrutiny until he told him the truth, Brey turned to the bodyguard and asked, "Tell me. Did you notice a strange glimmer in Alena's eyes?"

"Not really, no," Cristo replied, somewhat confused by the question.

"I noticed it right away," Brey continued, looking back at the princess. "I've seen it a few times now but I'll never forget the first time I saw it."

"When was that?"

"Back at Santeem Castle," the old tutor replied, "right after she broke the wall in the study room."

Cristo blinked, not out of confusion but this time out of intrigue.

"She's planning something," Brey said. "She has an ulterior goal but I'm not quite sure what it is. I am sure, though, she will do almost anything to reach it."

He paused for a moment, looking back up to the bodyguard. "We ought to be careful," he added, "or she may even end up hurting us in an attempt to reach her goals."


	5. Chapter 4: Infiltration

Chapter 4: Infiltration

Frenor at night took on an entirely different atmosphere than the day. A cool mist floated throughout the village, slowly finding its way down the few streets making up the market only to disappear into surrounding thick forests. Bright moonbeams illuminated the mist, casting a ghostly light on the buildings and roads. Several nocturnal creatures could normally be heard on a night like this but the crowd of peasants still gathered outside _Frenor's Finest Inn_ dampened their usual clamor this night. Still, closer to the forest at the rear of the inn, Cristo could hear more crickets than people.

Leaning against a wall at the back of the inn, the bodyguard let out a bored gust of air as he lightly tugged at a rope hanging from a window above. The cool night caused him to involuntarily shiver and he wrapped his arms around his body to try to keep warm as he kept watch. Although he tried to remain serious about the task handed to him, his outside demeanor belied his inner turmoil.

His feelings were severely stung when Alena told him to wait outside, to "Keep watch." _Keep watch_, he thought bitterly, biting his lower lip. _Keep watch of what? There's nothing back here to watch out for_.

Indeed, Timothy's resourcefulness had proven useful. While the front of _Frenor's Finest Inn_ remained the town's source of activity tonight, the back of the inn was completely neglected. Sneaking through the forest outlining Frenor, the travelers were able to reach the unguarded back undetected.

Yet when the decision came to choose who would keep watch outside, Alena had chosen Brey to accompany her and Timothy to break into the inn. Cristo's face nearly blanched when she had said it. Why did she choose the old tutor over him again?

Waiting by himself for the last several minutes had given the bodyguard a chance to ponder his unanswered question. In all truthfulness, Brey had proven to be a valuable asset to their party with his wide range of knowledge of the world. His ability to cast a few, simple magic spells was useful at times as well.

Take these away, though, and one would be left with a frail, old man possessing a contemptible attitude towards peasants.

In terms of fighting prowess, Cristo definitely had the upper hand. His swordsmanship was very proficient. The only reason he had not used it to his full potential was due to Brey's request early in their journeys. Ever loyal to help Alena gain what she desired, the bodyguard had remained passive during their battles while in her presence.

Perhaps it was time to change that, though. Perhaps, Cristo thought, if he could show what he was truly capable of, Alena would have more faith in him and include him in more of their adventures. Even Brey might show more respect toward him and cease his never-ending stinging remarks regarding Zenithism.

However, was simple swordsmanship enough? Surely Alena and Brey knew he was a capable fighter, otherwise he would never have been assigned as the Princess' personal bodyguard. Despite this, neither of them displayed much faith in him as a fighter. What more could he do to prove his worth?

The answer, he surmised, lay within his own magic: the magic of Zenithia. Already the bodyguard had displayed powers well beyond his supposed capability as an apprentice cleric; even Brey was kind enough to recognize this.

But what if he could go beyond that? What if he could gain the powers told of in the Zenithian Texts that priests and paladins of ancient times could achieve? There were many spells a capable cleric could learn but many were content with the varied forms of healing, and for good reason.

Although the Texts told of powerful spells within clerical magic, it also warned of the dangers in attempting to master such spells. Several hopeful clerics in the past had become lost in the power, forever trapping their souls on the earth in the forms of horrible apparitions. Others would be tempted by the dark demon, Esturk, in gaining their powers through the usage of dark magic, only to become a servant of the Ruler of Evil in His abominable realm.

Despite the dangers, Cristo's heart felt it would be worth the risk. Anything would be worth the risk to prove his worth to Alena.

Like any true follower of Zenithism, though, Cristo required a sign from the Master to show he was in good favour with his God; no Zenithist could attain such power without the Master's blessing.

The bodyguard knelt on the damp grass and placed his hands together in a praying stance. He murmured the introduction to any Zenithist prayer, simply stating his soul would forever be devoted to Master Dragon and the Zenithians in return for the chance to reside with them when his material body no longer existed. Once finished, Cristo tilted his head to the heavens, waiting to see if he had been heard.

The night sky was overcast, a few stars peaking through small pockets in the blanket of clouds. It was said Zenithia existed above the clouds but no mortal had ever seen the realm, thus keeping it in myths and legends. As a child, Cristo often dreamed of flying above the clouds to witness the splendour of Zenithia as pictured in the Texts his father showed him at night. He would fly through the massive golden gates, land gently at the base of the Stairs of Utopia, and be escorted by a wide range of famous Zenithians, their dove-like wings gently bouncing on their backs as they guided him through their wondrous halls and extensive libraries.

However, the young Cristo never saw Master Dragon in his dreams, as though His form could never fit within the boundaries of his imagination. There were very few pictures of the Master within the Texts, most drawn by different artists who only had rough ideas and based their sketches on dragons of ancient myth. Cristo's father, a strict follower of Zenithism, was overtly profound with his accusations against any statue or drawing, claiming the Master's magnificence could never by captured on stone or canvas. Thus Cristo's interpretation of their God was a distorted combination of artists' representation and his own father's grand, though vague, description.

Several minutes passed and Cristo remained unmoving. If any doubt crept into his mind, he instantly shoved it aside. Waiting for a sign from the Master could take as long as several days, a way of testing the devotee's faith. Although the bodyguard had no intention of waiting that long, it was still worth a try for the time being, as he really had nothing better to do while he waited for the others.

Suddenly thinking of his companions, a curious thought entered his mind, wondering what Alena and Brey would think if they saw him kneeling in wet grass, seemingly hypnotized by the stars. _They would probably think I look ridiculous_, he thought bitterly.

The clouds parted, revealing the full form of the constellation of Master Dragon for a brief moment. If one watched carefully, they would have been rewarded with a rare celestial event. One of the stars in the head of the Master, though very faint, could sometimes be seen on the darkest of nights. It brilliantly flashed once then flickered back into obscurity.

Cristo was fortunate enough to witness the rare spectacle.

His body suddenly froze, his eyes widening in horror as a numb pain shot through his head. Most would collapse under the pressure but Cristo somehow remained in his praying stance, his eyes fixed on the Master's stars.

His soul was then lost in euphoria. Alena, Brey, the inn behind him, Frenor, even his very body became nothing more than a distant dream; a new realm opened before his soul.

And the Texts opened before him…

* * *

Alena found she could grow fond of sneaking around and breaking into places she was not allowed to be (and, as a Princess, such places were rare). It gave her a heightened sense of excitement she never really experienced before. The thrill of a battle, the anticipation of seeing foreign lands, even the brief "romantic" encounter with the creature Durron could not compare with this.

What if someone was around the next corner? What if they were caught? What would happen in such a situation? How could they escape?

The princess was beginning to understand Timothy a little better and maybe why he had chosen such a disreputable occupation such as thieving. It was not only for the necessity of it but also for the thrill of it. Given that fact, Alena found herself a little intrigued by his character despite the shortcomings he had displayed since she met him.

The inn was much larger than expected, with many rooms lining the maze-like halls. During the busy season of the trade market, these rooms would be filled with several merchants from all parts of the remote region. However, with a Princess supposedly staying here, the innkeeper had been quite thorough in removing anyone residing at his inn. With all forms of competition out of the way, the innkeeper could have the Princess all to himself to probably entertain quite lavishly. The innkeeper's selfishness had worked to the travellers' advantage, however, as Timothy had no trouble in guiding Alena and Brey through the empty inn without drawing attention to themselves.

The thief stopped at a corner before advancing, holding a hand up to halt his companions' advance. A quick peek later, Timothy pointed around the corner, letting them know their target was in that direction. "Two guards," he whispered. "About as large as the one outside."

Alena smiled, an odd twinkle flashing in her eyes. "Shouldn't be a problem."

"Remember," Brey whispered, "we are to take them out as quickly and silently as possible. We don't want to draw unnecessary attention to ourselves. Who knows how many of these giants are in here."

The others nodded in agreement, although Alena somewhat reluctantly. Sneaking around the inn had already surged her adrenaline and a forward charge would have been fun as well.

Once prepared, the old tutor began to utter the words for 'Sap', and invisible energy found its way to its targets. The two guards gasped in horror as their muscled, toned bodies began to suddenly shrivel like a grape in sunlight.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Alena and Timothy rushed forward, each landing a solid blow to a stunned guard. Normally, such a blow would have been shrugged off as an annoyance but their shrivelled skin made the guards highly susceptible to such attacks. Both dropped like fallen trees.

Despite being almost half the weight of her opponent, Alena was still able to catch the large, falling man and gently lay him on the ground. Timothy was not quite as strong, however, and could not help but let his victim fall to the floorboards with a _thud_. The noise brought disapproving glares from his companions but all the thief could do was shrug in defence.

Brey rounded the corner, rubbing his white whiskers as he studied the unconscious giants. After a moment of thought, he said to his companions, "Let's just leave them here. We should be finished and long gone by the time they wake up."

Timothy nodded and turned his attention to the door. He gave a light twist on the knob, confirming his suspicion it was already locked. Shrugging, he pulled out an odd looking key from a pocket in his pants. For some reason, it had tiny spokes protruding at seemingly random spots along its body.

With steady hands, the thief slid the strange key into the lock and rattled it around a bit, his head deftly placed close to the door. Eventually, an audible _click_ was heard and Timothy smiled.

The thief withdrew the key and placed it back into his pocket. As he did, Timothy noticed Alena appeared mesmerized by his actions. He quickly realized she had never seen anyone perform what had been standard routine for him. Timothy decided to have a little fun with her, especially since she had placed that curse on him and forced him into this situation.

He threw Alena a knowing wink, which drew a confused stare from the princess. "That was something I made," he smiled modestly. "Every thief needs a key like that. Some require multiple tools to do the job but that little key is all an expert like me needs."

"How did you get it?" Alena asked, her face that of a young child's fascination.

"It took me many years to perfect its intricate design," Timothy replied, stretching the truth. "Many, _many_ trial and errors." He paused for a moment, slightly looking away. "Would _you_ like to try your hand at it, Alena?"

"Could I?" she exclaimed, her eyes wide with anticipation. Surely such a skill would be useful, not to mention exciting. Already her hand was extended to receive the thief's key.

Brey, whom had been watching without much interest, finally had enough. Although he had decided to take a passive role in this excursion, someone had to be the responsible one in the party. Probably the best course of action was a rude awakening.

"If you two are through flirting," he gruffly said with a tap of his crooked walking staff, "could we carry on?"

Timothy could not help but chuckle, wondering just how the old man saw what he was doing.

Alena blinked a few times as if coming out of a trance. She promptly pulled back her hand, so embarrassed by her childish action it found its way behind her back.

Timothy, sensing her embarrassment, gently grabbed her arm and pulled her hand out. Alena could have easily resisted but was curious as to what the thief was doing. He reached into his pocket and withdrew his key, placing it in Alena's open palm before closing her hand. "I'll teach you tomorrow," he smiled with a wink.

The princess could not help but blush as she placed the key in her pocket. Brey could not help but roll his eyes.

Timothy turned his attention to the door and gently turned the knob, easing it open quietly. The option of charging through was early abandoned upon deciding a noisy break-in would draw too much attention to them. The door swung open, lightly groaning on neglected hinges.

The room on the other side was large, much larger than any of them could have guessed by judging the inn's size. It was not just a bedroom with a few extra pieces of furniture, as most rooms of small-town inns were designed. Rather, it was filled with luxurious furniture: couches, tables, chairs, even a desk with foreign flowers. To their right was a pair of doors, probably leading to the actual bedchambers.

However, aside from the furnishings, the room was also empty.

"What the…?" Timothy muttered, poking his head through the opening. He scanned the room, finding no trace of the Princess or her companions. However, someone's belongings were here and, judging from the large amount of bags, Timothy only assumed this was indeed the Princess' chamber.

Brey made his way inside, studying the room intently. In an attempt to search for clues regarding the room's emptiness, he wandered over to a closet and opened it. "Now this is interesting," he mused, rubbing his white whiskers as he gazed inside.

"What is it, James?" Timothy asked as he walked over, Alena close behind.

The old tutor blinked for a second, momentarily caught off guard by the use of his alias; he often forgot about it since his companions still referred to him his real name. "There's a tunnel here," Brey said at length. Indeed, a hole large enough for an average man to fit through was in the back of the closet.

"How ingenious for him to place such a passage," Timothy muttered, his eyes filled with amazement. "I never would have suspected someone like _that_ old goat to come up with this."

"What do you mean?" Brey asked, turning a curious gaze in the thief's direction.

"Hmm…? Oh, nothing…" Timothy replied as though coming out of a trance. Brey kept his gaze on him though, not quite satisfied with the response.

However, before Timothy could elaborate, Alena's head suddenly perked up. "Did you hear that?" she said, her ears tilted towards the tunnel.

"Hear what?" Brey asked, listening as well.

"It sounded like a muffled scream, I think," the princess replied. She paused for a moment, then said, "There it is again."

Brey frowned. He still could not hear it. _Must be going deaf_, he thought bitterly.

Timothy, though, had been able to make out the sound once Alena had informed them of it. After hearing it the second time, his eyes suddenly widened. "You don't suppose the Princess is down there, do you?"

"If that's so," Alena said, "why would she be…" Her voice trailed off, a thought coming to mind.

She suddenly bolted towards the passage, pausing briefly to say, "Come on!" Timothy, having drawn a similar conclusion, diligently followed. The old tutor heaved a sigh and followed last, his interest in the whole affair waning.

The passage was not very large and Alena had to move sideways to get any speed. Even though it was pitch black, the passage was fairly straight and easy to follow. However, a sudden drop in the floor did cause the princess to lose her balance. "What the…?" she mumbled as she found her way back to her feet. She felt the ground in front of her and noticed there was another small drop. The passage was going down, but down to where?

Cautiously moving down, Alena had to slow her pace. It was not too long, though, before she arrived at a dead end. She felt the wall for any signs of a door. If there was one, she could not find it. Wondering if perhaps she had taken a wrong turn somewhere, the princess placed her ear on the wall. She definitely heard movement on the other side, even a few gruff voices. This had to be the right place - there were just no signs of a door.

An idea came to mind: maybe she would have to make her own door. If she could make one from a stone wall in a feat of uncontrollable rage, making one in wood with a steady mind should be no trouble at all.

There was not much room for manoeuvrability so kicking was out of the question. It would probably take a fair amount of controlled force in her tiny fists to make a large enough hole for her to fit through. Steeling her mind, Alena slowly brought back her clenched hand and imagined putting it through the wall. In seconds, she reached her potential height of adrenaline and shot her fist forth.

Her knuckles sent stinging pain to her brain as the boards could not help but crack under Alena's amazing strength. The hole was not large enough, though, so the princess followed through with her other fist, alternating between them.

Within seconds, Alena's knuckles had several splinters and blood trickled down her fingers. However, she hardly registered the pain, too satisfied at seeing her accomplished goal. The hole she made was just large enough for her to squeeze through.

Once on the other side, she found herself inside a small, empty room. She was not alone, either.

Two men were inside the room. One was of large girth and wearing dirty clothes. The other one was smaller with a face giving him the semblance of a rat.

In the large man's massive arms was a small, dainty woman wearing an elegant, white, satin robe and a jewel-studded golden tiara. Alena could not make out her face, though, as the large man's arms had her deep in his grasp. However, upon seeing how nobly the woman was dressed, Alena quickly came to the assumption this was her impostor. And seeing how she was obviously being constrained in the large man's arms against her will, Alena's other assumption had been correct as well.

Both men stared at the princess with wide eyes, surprised by her sudden appearance. Taking advantage of their surprise, Alena stepped forward to confront them. She may have even been able take them out had she not tripped over a body directly in front of her. He had been so close to the wall that Alena had not noticed him when she burst through.

She fell face first into the floorboards, severely banging her nose.

Despite the pain, Alena was quick to push herself to her feet but by then it was too late. Seeing Alena's humiliating fall had brought the two men out of their shock. The small, rat-faced one had already darted for the door and the large one was moving behind him, the impostor still in his rough grasp.

Alena started to give chase but the large man halted her. "Don't move!" he warned, tightening the hold. His voice quivered though, still shaken by Alena's strength. She sensed this and took another step forward.

"I said don't move!" the large man repeated, "or the Princess _will_ be hurt!" Alena did not falter, knowing full well the person the large man was holding was not the Princess of _any_ country.

"Better do as he says, Alena," Timothy's voice came from behind. She turned around and found the thief coming through the hole, a frantic expression on his face. "We don't want any harm to come to her," he said to the large man.

"Tim!" Alena nearly cried, her attention now on her companion. "She's not really…!" Suddenly realizing her mistake, Alena quickly turned around.

The large man and the impostor were gone.

"Dammit, Tim, now look at what you've done!" Alena's face flushed with anger.

"But…" Timothy tried to start but was immediately cut off.

"Come on!" she ordered, grabbing his arm. "We still might be able to stop them." Nearly pulling the thief off his feet, the two gave pursuit.

Upon exiting the small room, they found themselves in an empty hallway. Alena quickly looked both ways to find the kidnappers. Instead, she found a door slightly ajar leading outside. The princess bolted for the door, Timothy close behind.

A quick glance around revealed the door lead to the back of the inn. She also saw the kidnappers running towards the area Cristo was. Alena sprinted in that direction, calling out Cristo's name so he could intercept the kidnappers.

She rounded a corner with the kidnappers still in her distant sight. Yet, had Cristo heard her, he should have been able to block their escape. Where was he?

Alena briefly turned her attention to where they had left the bodyguard and was dumbfounded by what she saw. He was kneeling in the grass, his hands folded in a praying stance, and staring blankly at the clouds. "What the…?" she absently muttered, then shouted, "_Cristo_!" If he heard her, the bodyguard did not show any recognition of her presence.

Timothy finally caught up to Alena and she quickly pointed to Cristo, hastily commanding the thief to wake the bodyguard up. Timothy opened his mouth to ask for an explanation but none was forthcoming, the princess already off in pursuit. His eyes followed her path for a moment, watching her disappear into the night with wonderment. _She sure has spirit_, he thought, smiling.

The thief turned his attention to Cristo, curious as to what Alena had meant. Indeed, the bodyguard was in a trance-like state, staring at the heavens. "Cristo!" Timothy called out, receiving no reply.

"Hey!" he said, becoming irritated. The thief walked forward to shake the bodyguard awake but paused in his steps. His eyes widened in horror as he noticed something very unnatural about Cristo. A faint aura was surrounding the hypnotized man, sparkling between black and deep red.

"Cristo?" the thief called out hesitantly, unsure whether he was all right or not. However, there still was no response as Cristo's gaze remained fixed on the sky.

Timothy repeatedly called Cristo's name, taking hesitating steps forward each time. Soon, the thief was within arm's length and was worried he might have to physically touch the bodyguard to wake him. Would this aura cover him if he did, though?

Timothy had every desire to leave Cristo as he was, some sort of lie coming to mind if Alena asked him why he had not wakened him up. However, his fear of Alena's wrath if she saw through the lie was stronger than his fear of the unnatural magic surrounding the bodyguard.

Finding a stick, Timothy slowly inched it forward, beads of cold sweat forming on his brow. He clenched his eyes tightly, sucked in his breath, and lightly poked Cristo. When the aura surrounding the bodyguard did not leap onto the stick and cover the thief, Timothy let out a sigh of relief, tossed the stick away, and roughly shoved Cristo over with a booted foot.

The bodyguard fell over in a stunned heap, the aura instantly fading. "Wake up!" Timothy barked, clapping his hands together.

Cristo looked around briefly with bewilderment. He saw Timothy standing over him, the thief's hands on his hips. "What happened?" he quickly asked, still blinking rapidly as his eyes were quite dry.

"You were under some sort of spell, Cris," the thief replied.

Cristo stood up, mumbling, "Oh…" and started to walk away. Timothy watched the bodyguard walk away, stunned by his apathetic response.

* * *

If there was one thing Alena was beginning to hate, it would have to be the woods, especially at night. There always was a low hanging branch catching her in the face, or a raised root tripping her, or a bush her clothes would snag on. If she did not assume the kidnappers were having just as difficult of a time as she was, the princess probably would not have remained in these woods for as long as she had.

As she fumbled her way through the trees and shrubs, though, pursuing the kidnappers was not foremost on her mind. Rather, something else preoccupied her thoughts: Cristo.

Why had he not reacted when she ordered him to? He had always diligently followed her commands without a second thought, sometimes putting aside his duty and even his religion to help her. His continuing praying was not only inexcusable, but strange as well.

Why would he be praying so late at night, anyway? What would be the point of abandoning his immediate responsibility so he might let Master Dragon know just how devoted he was to Him?

The fact Alena did not really believe in Zenithism further heightened her frustration with Cristo, seeing it as a waste of time when there were more pressing matters at hand.

Alena's thoughts were so trained on her frustration that she did not notice a large fist swing at her until it smashed into her face. The princess flew back, grasping for her nose as her head swooned and blood rushed into her nostrils. She tried to quickly stand back up but the blow had dizzied her senses and she fell back down, tears brimming on her eyes.

Her assailant came out from behind a tree: the large man she had been chasing after! "I'll let you live," he said, rubbing his fist, "if you deliver a message to the people of Frenor." Alena did not want to comply with his threat but the pain made thinking straight an arduous chore, ruling out hand to hand combat. Bile rising in her throat, Alena weakly nodded.

The large kidnapper nodded once, then said, "The Princess will be kept hostage until Frenor's treasure, the golden bracelet, is paid as ransom. We'll exchange at the town's graveyard. Understood?" Alena weakly nodded again and the large man stepped back into the shadows of the woods.

Alena's head fell limply, allowing the weakness in her body to take over. She was disgusted with her inability to do anything but the pain was too much to initiate any action.

Tears of frustration running down her cheeks, Alena found she could _really_ grow to hate the woods.


	6. Chapter 5: The Samaritans

Chapter 5: The Samaritans

"_Why_?" Alena nearly screamed, her voice echoing in the inn's empty hallway. "_Why_ didn't you do _anything_, Cristo?" The bodyguard merely shrugged in defence, infuriating the princess further as it had to be the hundredth time he did so.

"Alena…" Timothy started to say but she threw him an icy glare. Her eyes gave a silent warning to the thief that should he interfere, he would severely regret it. Timothy raised his hands and promptly stepped back, leaning against the wall. Despite the fact he was the only one to have seen the strange aura around the bodyguard, if Cristo did not want to defend himself why should he do it for him. It really was not any of his business what went on between him and Alena anyway.

Satisfied she would not have any more interruptions, Alena turned her attention back to the source of her frustration. "Now, explain yourself." The princess then quickly pointed a finger into Cristo's chest. "And don't give me a shrug," she added dangerously. "I _demand_ words, not actions from you."

Cristo sighed and place a hand on Alena's shoulder. The princess looked at his hand, somewhat startled by the action. Cristo never touched her in such a manner before, especially when she was as angry as she was now.

His voice was calm and serene. "Alena," he began, "I cannot really explain my actions, as I do not fully understand what transpired. So it would be impossible for me to describe in such a manner that you could comprehend it." He smiled knowingly and removed his hand.

The princess' cheeks flushed with fury. He had merely shrugged with words! What was he _hiding_? The frustration was starting to be more than she could bear and her hand clenched into a fist. She was going to get some answers out of him, even if she was forced to beat them out.

A subdued cough interrupted her thoughts and Alena spun around, furious. She opened her mouth to lash out at Timothy for the interruption but paused when she found that it was Brey who had coughed. The old tutor had just entered the hallway from the adjacent room - the same room the impostor had been staying at. Slightly unclenching her fist, Alena asked irritably, "What is it?"

"There's someone in here who wishes to speak with you," the old tutor replied, his voice on the edge of nervousness as he did so. While he did not believe the princess would physically lash out at him, he realized if she let her rage out in an uncontrolled frenzy, it would not matter if he was in her way or not.

Alena lightly sighed, then said, "Fine. We'll be in there in a moment." Brey nodded and went back into the room, glad that Alena had taken the interruption civilly.

Once the old tutor had left, the princess spun back around to face Cristo. She jutted a finger sharply into his chest. Despite his nonchalant behaviour the bodyguard could not help but wince.

"Don't think you have been given a break," she warned, her voice cold as ice, "because we _will_ continue this discussion." With that, she turned on her heels and stormed into the room. Cristo and Timothy exchanged an uneasy look, then followed with a safe distance behind the raging princess.

They entered the same luxurious room they had broken into earlier and into the adjacent bedchamber. Inside, Brey was leaning on his crooked staff just to the side of the door. Two other people were in the room as well. One was an old man, though younger than Brey, with a full, long beard yet to see the white of age. The other was a young man with clothes similar to that of a Zenithian cleric's robes; anyone with much experience with Zenithists would notice the minor flaws, though. The large blood clot on his head instantly reminded Alena where she saw him before: it was the man she had tripped over at the end of the passage in the closet.

Apparently, the moment Alena and Timothy had taken off in pursuit of the kidnappers, Brey had finally reached the end of the passage. Fully realizing he could not hope to keep up with his faster companions, he decided to take care of the fallen man, having recognized him as one of the impostor's companions from the market. Upon bringing him back to this room, Brey also discovered the old man knocked out in the bedroom. It took them a while to regain consciousness but Brey had remained by their sides, waiting for them to wake up. Even though the old tutor had had just about enough of the whole "Princess" fiasco, he was still somewhat curious about a few things these two could possibly explain to him.

"I've brought them as you have asked," Brey said with a slight bow to the men by the bedside.

The old man by the bedside turned around and saw the companions. His eyes lit up and he enthusiastically said, "Yes! Yes! Please, do enter. There's much I'd like to talk to you about."

"Such as?" Alena asked simply, folding her arms across her chest.

"Hold on," the old man said, raising his hands. "Introductions are in order. My name is Brey, and my sleeping friend here is Cristo, an apprentice cleric of the Zenithian church."

Alena looked at her tutor, shock in her eyes. He merely nodded as if he already knew what the princess was thinking. She then looked to her bodyguard and was surprised to find a startled expression on his face. Timothy, too, was startled but only in the fact that two people with the same names, following the same religion, were in the same room.

The second man calling himself Brey did not notice the startled expressions however, and impatiently asked, "And your names…?"

"A…Alena," the princess stuttered, unable to come up with an alias on the spot. She silently cursed herself for being unable to think quickly like Brey had so many times before.

Alena glanced over to her bodyguard, wondering if he would find it just as, if not more, difficult to think of a different name. However, he seemed very calm, when he simply introduced himself as Lieb, the name of a priest they had met on their travels. A sting of jealousy hit Alena, as she could hardly believe her bodyguard had been able to provide a false name so quickly.

With no reason to hide his identity, Timothy gave his real name. Brey had already provided his alias.

The second Brey regarded the companions for a moment, then looked at Alena for a moment longer. The princess shifted uncomfortably, wondering if her cover was blown. At length, he asked, "You were the one that continued the pursuit of the kidnappers, am I right?"

"Um, yes," the princess replied, her hand unconsciously moving to her nose. While Cristo had been able to heal the minor injury, the pain of her failure still stung her delicate face. "I… wasn't able to catch them, though."

"Still," the second Brey continued, "what you did took great courage. People such as us recognize bravery when we see it, even if travellers such as you do not.

"We have a request of you," he continued after a pause. "Your grandfather, James, told us of the ransom. Unfortunately, we have nothing on our possession that resembles a golden bracelet."

"It wasn't yours he wanted," Alena stated. "He said it was Frenor's treasure."

"Oh…" the second Brey uttered, his eyes lamenting as though his plans were ruined. He turned away, mumbling, "I see…"

Movement from the bed quickly drew everyone's attention there and found the second Cristo was stirring awake. "Don't try to move," the second Brey gently said to this companion, resting a supportive hand on the young man's shoulder. However, he weakly shook his head and motioned for the first Cristo to come forward. The bodyguard did so and leaned in.

"Y…you're a… fellow… Zenithist, am I… right?" the second Cristo asked. The bodyguard nodded in response. The second Cristo smiled, then said, "Then… please, as a man… dedicated to… the… well-being of… our world, you must help… us to rescue… May." His eyes suddenly widened as a bony elbow jutted him in the ribs, a warning glare hitting him from the second Brey. "The… Princess…" he weakly amended.

"You will all be handsomely rewarded, of course," the second Brey quickly added, lightly pushing the bodyguard away to let his companion slip back into rest.

The first Brey rolled his eyes, disgusted with the notion of these impostors offering them money to do their work. Alena remained unmoving, absorbed in her own thoughts. However, Timothy's eyes lit up at the mention of a reward.

"Could we, uh, have a moment to discuss this?" he asked, seeing his companions' indecision. The second Brey nodded and Timothy motioned for the rest of them to follow him to the other room.

Once privately assembled, the thief immediately turned to Brey. "James," he frantically said, "we _have_ to do this!"

"Why?" Brey asked, eyeing Timothy coldly.

"M…many reasons," he replied, stuttering from shock. "The Princess of our country is in danger, and… and…" Timothy lost his words when Brey snorted, turning away with disgust. The thief gazed at the old tutor for a moment, disbelief in his eyes. "James!" he pleaded. "Please! You have to help me. I can't do this on my own!"

"He's right," Alena spoke up, looking at Brey.

Both men started at her, shock in their faces though for different reasons. "I am?" Timothy asked.

"He is?" Brey said immediately after, pointing at the thief incredulously. Seeing Alena's nod of confirmation, the old tutor's eyes narrowed and he strode over to the princess. "Excuse us, Tim," he said as he grabbed Alena's arm, "but we're going to have a private conversation." The thief raised his hands and stepped back, allowing the two to talk in hopes Alena would be able to persuade her grandfather.

As they entered the hallway, they hardly noticed Cristo follow as Brey immediately turned his attention on the princess. "What's wrong with you?" he asked, his voice firm but subdued. "Don't tell me you've fallen for their…"

"Oh, be quiet," Alena interrupted, pushing the old tutor away. Brey's eyes widened with angered surprise but before he could lash out, Alena said, "I know full well that whoever was kidnapped is an impostor, but I think we should still help them. Why shouldn't we, old man?"

Brey frowned. "This is none of our affair," he calmly explained. "I say we should expose these impostors for who they are and be done with them, continuing on our way." He paused for a moment, eyeing Alena suspiciously. "Why _would_ you want to help them?"

Alena shrugged. "It sounds sort of exciting, I guess," she replied simply. Brey continued to eye her and she quickly added, "What? I can't think of another reason."

Brey shook his head and turned to Cristo. "What about you?" he said, poking the bodyguard with his crooked staff. "What do you think we should do?"

"Whether she is an impostor of the Princess is irrelevant," he replied, absently rubbing his chest. "What matters is a fellow being is in trouble and, as a Zenithist, it is my duty to help in any way I can."

The old tutor rolled his eyes. "Don't tell me that actor got to you, too?" he asked. Cristo merely shrugged, remaining silent. Brey heaved a heavy sigh, shaking his head. "I guess I have no choice," he muttered disdainfully. "I very well can't let the two of you run off like this without me there to get you out of trouble."

"Thank you, Brey," Alena cheerfully smiled, giving her old tutor an affectionate hug.

"Sure," he muttered, blushing as he patted her arm.

When she let go, though, the old tutor turned around and gave her a cold glare. "I'll help you," he said, jabbing his crooked staff into her stomach, "but I fear for you, Alena."

"Fear for me?" the princess repeated, confused.

Brey sighed, shaking his head. "If you cannot see it now, I don't know if you ever will," he said. "But the best way for you to overcome it is to recognize it yourself, so I'll keep silent about it for now."

He then walked past her, entering the suite with Cristo behind. Alena remained in the hallway for a moment, wondering exactly what Brey meant.

* * *

Timothy was very enthusiastic about Alena, Cristo, and Brey joining him, and the two impostors displayed restrained gratefulness, attempting to keep up an ecclesiastic appearance.

None of them knew where to start looking for the golden bracelet, though. Any town treasure would normally be held at a lord's home, but then kidnapping a Princess did not make any sense. It would have been a simpler plan just to break into the lord's manor and steal the bracelet from there. So, if the bracelet was not at the lord's manor, where would it be?

Timothy decided it would be best to talk to the innkeeper first, if anything to at least get a couple of rooms since the night was growing long. Upon reaching the innkeeper's chambers down below, Timothy halted his companions, advising them to let him do most of the talking since he knew the innkeeper. The others nodded in agreement.

The thief knocked on the door before entering and said an enthusiastic, "How have you been, Old Goat?"

The room was not very large, probably used as a meeting place for a few people. Since there were already three people in there, including the bewildered forms of the two large bodyguards that had been outside the impostor's chambers, space was very short once everyone gathered inside.

Alena cast a hesitant glance towards the bodyguards, who both had bags of ice on their heads. She was uncertain whether they would recognize her as the one who had caused their injuries. Should they suddenly rise and attack, it would get very ugly in the small room. However, their confused, if not dumbfounded, expressions calmed the princess' nerves.

The third person was a small, spindly, old man with a long, white moustache and receding white tufts of hair. The moment Timothy burst in, the old man jumped out of surprise. "T…Tim!" the innkeeper stammered. "H…how did you get in here?"

"Now, now," the thief smiled, waving a finger. "You know full well that my trade secrets are mine to keep, Old Goat."

The innkeeper flinched at the name Timothy had used. "Why must you use that name?" he asked, obviously pained.

"Because it suites you," Timothy replied. He paused for a moment, smiling. "Old Goat," he added, his words intentionally stinging.

Flinching again as he buried the remark, Old Goat sat down on a nearby wood table, folding his arms across his chest. "So, what are you doing here, Tim," he asked without much interest. Only then did he finally notice Alena, Cristo, and Brey. "And who are these people?" he asked irritably.

"Just some people I've joined with," Timothy replied somewhat quickly, having no desire to go through with tedious introductions. "As for your first question, I'm sure you know full well why I'm here."

"No…" the innkeeper slowly said, a coy expression on his face.

"Don't play dumb, Old Goat!" Timothy harshly shot back. He suddenly lunged forth, grabbing the innkeeper by the neck and placing him in a tight headlock. The two bodyguards rose to help their boss and Alena took a step forward as well, ready to back Timothy should it come to blows.

The innkeeper managed to raise a hand, warding his bodyguards off. Obviously, he was used to such treatment from the thief. Both sides backed down, keeping a wary watch on the other.

Satisfied he was in no immediate danger, Timothy released his grip and allowed Old Goat to breathe again. "You know full well that I'm here because the Princess of Santeem is in Frenor," he said at length. "Did you really think you would be able to have her all to yourself?"

"That's utter nonsense," the innkeeper replied, rubbing his neck.

Timothy was satisfied with his theory, though, and continued undaunted. "Well, the Princess has been kidnapped, Old Goat, and you are a major suspect."

Old Goat's eyes widened incredulously. "Me?" he exclaimed, pointing to himself. "How would…?"

"The kidnappers used a secret passage that led straight to the Princess' chambers," Timothy interrupted, taking a threatening step forward. "Therefore, someone you know must be responsible."

"I… wouldn't know," the innkeeper said hesitantly.

Timothy frowned. "James, come here," he commanded. Brey did not react at first, having no interest in the affair before him. However, Alena threw him a warning glare, causing the old tutor to lose his resolve. Sighing, he stepped forth.

The thief leant over and whispered, "Can you do that curse on him that you did to me?" Brey was a little confused by the question but nodded. Timothy smiled, then said, "When I nod, do it."

Turning his attention back on Old Goat, the thief coldly said, "This man is a powerful wizard. He merely follows me because I promised him I'd introduce him to the Princess so he would have a chance to become a royal advisor and tutor." The coincidence of his words managed to draw a muffled laugh disguised as a cough from Brey, spoiling his testy attitude.

Somewhat startled by the interruption, Timothy nearly lost the seriousness in his act but was quick to cover. "As you can see," he continued, "his health is failing. This was his last chance for his dream to come true."

"What does…?" the innkeeper started to say but was again cut off.

"I _know_ you know something," Timothy stated firmly, "and if you don't talk, James will place a curse on you so horrible, your skin will shrink away until there is nothing left but bones."

"_What_?" the innkeeper cried. He was visibly trembling at the notion of such a curse. He waited a moment, apparently weighing his options as he glanced nervously around the room. "Tim," he stuttered, "I only…"

"Do it!" the thief coldly said with a nod. Old Goat backed up, sweat streaming down his face. He feebly signalled for his bodyguards to help him. Both stood up and took up stances in front of their boss, daring anyone to get past them. Alena fully accepted the dare.

Springing forward, the princess quickly grabbed the closest of the large men and delivered a sharp knee to his groin. His eyes rolled into the back of his head as he fell over, clutching his genitals. Alena smirked, marvelling at how easy such a large man could be fallen.

The second one, while initially stunned by Alena's quickness, started to lunge at the princess. Alena spun around and prepared to give an equally critical blow.

A small, chipped copper sword fell between the two, blocking their paths. "I think it would be best that you move aside," Cristo calmly said, moving his sword so it pointed to the large man. The large man scowled at the princess but did as told, his own life being on a higher priority than the innkeeper's. Keeping his sword on the large man, Cristo looked at Alena. Seeing her stunned expression seemed to bring a tiny smile to his face.

"Now then…" Timothy said once things calmed. He waved a hand in the quivering innkeeper's direction. "James, if you would."

After Brey cast 'Sap', Old Goat's skin began to shrivel, clinging to the bony outcroppings of his elbows and hips. He shrieked with fear, writhing as if the last bits of life were escaping. However the spell finished, leaving him a disgusting display of skin and bones.

"P…please…!" he cried, falling into a begging stance at Timothy's feet. "I beg of you! Make it stop! I _swear_ I know nothing!"

The thief ignored his pleas for some time, apparently enjoying the scene before him. At length, he turned an icy glare at Old Goat and said, "Fine. I will have James stop the curse on the condition that we will have privileged access to your facilities. Do we have a deal?"

"Yes! Yes!" the innkeeper cried. "By the Master, you may have the finest rooms that I can offer!"

Timothy nodded, then turned to Brey, saying, "Release him!"

The old tutor stood still for a moment, not knowing exactly what to do. In the end, he made some silly gestures with his hands and mumbled some nonsense. "There," he said afterward. 'It will take some time for your skin to return to normal but it will no longer shrivel."

"Oh, thank you, Master James!" the innkeeper whined, now grovelling at the old tutor's feet. Brey threw him a scowl and kicked Old Goat away, disgusted with the display. The innkeeper cowered back, fearful he had angered the apparently powerful wizard.

"So you know nothing of a planned kidnapping," Timothy asked again.

Old Goat shook his head and replied, "T…this is the first I've heard of it. Honest!"

"Fine," the thief muttered. "We'll be retiring for the night. I'm sure that I can find the proper rooms to accommodate us."

Once they were all assembled back in the hallway, Brey immediately spun on Timothy, jabbing his crooked staff into the thief's chest. "Was that really necessary?" the old tutor scolded. "What good was that?"

Rubbing his chest, Timothy explained, "Well, we found he wasn't behind the kidnapping, and we got ourselves rooms, didn't we?"

"…All of which could have been done without _that_ disgusting display," Brey argued back. He paused for a moment, eyeing the thief suspiciously. "What exactly possessed you to do something like that?"

An evil smile crept onto Timothy's face, causing him to look somewhat out of character. "I've always wanted to do something like that to the old goat," he chuckled, then started to walk down the hall, leaving his companions in a stunned silence.


	7. Chapter 6: Looking For Clues

Chapter 6: Looking For Clues

The next day, the four travellers decided it would be best to split into two groups in order to cover as much ground as possible. As per Timothy and Brey's requests, no information of the "Princess'" abduction was to be divulged. The town was already a mess with her mere presence, and such knowledge could very well throw it into chaos. The first group decided upon consisted of Timothy and Alena, the other Cristo and Brey. The old tutor was the only one who did not fully agree with the arrangement, seeing his pairing as more of a babysitting job than anything else.

Indeed, Cristo did not change overnight, the relaxed and complacent demeanour still etched on his face. With such an attitude, no one knew what to expect of him so someone had to keep an eye on the bodyguard.

Upon splitting from the other group, Timothy and Alena started their investigation by questioning the peasants immediately outside the inn. Apparently, many of them still huddled around the front entrance, anxious to get a glimpse at a member of royalty and completely ignorant of the fact the "Princess" was no longer within the town.

After nearly a futile hour of asking about the golden bracelet, Alena began to wonder if she had heard the ransom incorrectly. None of the peasants seemed to be aware of anything within their town that resembled the description.

Growing tired of this tedious and useless strategy, Timothy, whom seemed to be having just as much success, walked over to the princess. "You know," he muttered, "there must be a better way of doing this."

"What do you mean?" Alena asked.

"I seriously doubt these peasants know of any golden bracelet," the thief explained. "How could they when _I_ haven't even heard of it?" Alena shrugged, not completely understanding what Timothy meant.

"Think about it," he continued. "Such a treasure would be quite a prize should any thief hear of it. I may not be the most successful one around but I still generally know of whatever treasures the lords of this region own." He paused for a moment, as though embarrassed. "Not once have I ever heard of a golden bracelet as Frenor's treasure."

"So, what are you saying?" Alena asked.

"This ransom may not even exist," Timothy replied, "in which case, we have to explore other options."

Alena thought about it for a moment, finally coming with an idea. "Why don't we check the graveyard, then," she said.

"What for?"

"The kidnappers said we were to meet them there, right?" the princess replied. Timothy nodded. "It could mean they have someone working for them there," she continued. "The undertaker, perhaps?"

The thief opened his mouth to argue seeing Alena's theory as nonsense. However, he realized he had drawn a similar conclusion with the innkeeper. For a situation this important, any possibility should not be overlooked. Shrugging, Timothy agreed and the two headed for the cemetery.

Located just on the outskirts of Frenor, the cemetery was the only mar in the city's otherwise tranquil atmosphere. Tombstones half-buried by uncut grass were covered with moss, their original epitaphs erased through years of erosion. A few, larger statues were at the far end of the area, depicting where former lords of the region were laid to rest. Other markers were crude sticks or mounds of stone, a few with wilted flowers layered on top. The area had a sodden feel to it with the ground mainly made up of moss and several trees casting dark shadows across the landscape.

The sight of an old, rotting shed to one side of the cemetery did nothing to improve the scenery. Seeing it was the only building around, though, made the two draw the conclusion this was where the undertaker resided. Heaving a heavy sigh, Alena entered the cemetery, followed by Timothy.

The thought of walking over dozens of corpses was very disturbing to the princess. The soft, mossy ground did not help, either, as she repeatedly thought she would suddenly be engulfed by the ground, coming face to face with the rotting grin of a buried peasant.

So occupied in her own thoughts was she that Alena did not notice a short, dirty figure suddenly leap from behind a tombstone. He tackled her, grabbing the princess by the waist and knocking her to the ground. Having taken her by surprise, the figure was able to clamp her into a headlock.

"Alena!" Timothy called out, immediately rushing to her aid, though it quickly proved to be unnecessary.

The hold her assailant had her in was a common one and, for one of Alena's training, easily escapable. Methodically, the princess jutted her elbow into the gut of the attacker, knocking the wind from him. In the instant his arms relaxed, Alena was able to slip from their grasp.

To be sure he would not be able to attack again, she grabbed one of his arms and flipped him over her shoulder. The man landed on his back with a groan, although the moss covering the ground softened the fall. Alena stepped on his chest, pressing down a little so he could do little more than squirm.

Once Timothy had caught up to her, the princess had been able to get a good look at her assailant. It was not one of the kidnappers, as she had first thought. He was a man with long, knotted, curly hair and dirt covering his skin. His clothes were rotten and ragged, holes in seemingly random areas. His face looked and smelled as though it had not been washed or shaven in years and one eye rolled up instead of remaining central, giving him a somewhat deranged look. The rancid smell that came from the man made the princess recoil, her hand unconsciously covering her nose.

As he squirmed under Alena's booted foot, the dirty man managed to scream, "Why ye' disturb me dead?"

Timothy and Alena looked at each other for a moment, bewildered. "'Your dead'?" Alena repeated at length.

"Yes!" the dirty man said. "Me dead!"

"I get it," the thief said after a moment's thought. "He's the undertaker, so, in one sense, these corpses are his since he has to take care of them."

"Yes!" the dirty man said again. "Me dead!"

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Alena exclaimed, removing her boot. "I didn't realize…"

"Don't worry about apologizing," the thief whispered to her. "This guy's a bit of a brahmird. Just look at him." Alena did so and saw the undertaker busy dusting himself with long, exaggerated strokes, most of which were futile given his unwashed state. Timothy shook his head, disgusted. "Figures only the village idiot would end up living at the graveyard," he muttered.

The undertaker, having finally given up wiping the dirt off his clothes, turned to the two, promptly placing his hands on his hips. "Well," he said. "Where dead?"

"Excuse me?" Alena said, raising an eyebrow.

"Dead!" the undertaker exclaimed, waving his arms in the air. "No one see me unless bring dead ones."

"No, no!" the princess said, shaking her head. "You have it all wrong. We just…"

"Don't bother," Timothy interrupted, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I doubt the kidnappers would entrust their plans with a lunatic like this." The thief looked at the undertaker, a smile crossing his face as he watch him seemingly polishing a tombstone. "I doubt he even knows what a Princess or golden bracelet is," he chuckled. "Let's go."

They were just about to leave when the dirty man suddenly looked up, his deranged gaze briefly retreating in place of a more serious look. "Sshh!" he said, bringing a finger to his mouth. "Don't say of it. Secret, it is!"

"What is," Timothy asked, a little intrigued.

The undertaker looked around for a moment, as if making sure they were alone. Once satisfied, he hopped over to Timothy and Alena, cupping his hands over his mouth. The two companions leaned forward to hear what he had to say. "Bracelet," he whispered.

Timothy and Alena's eyes widened with shock. The princess grabbed the dirty man by the shoulders, lightly shaking him. "What do you know of it?" she demanded. "Does it really exist?"

"S…secret!" he replied, stuttering from Alena's sudden questions. "N…not sup…p…posed t…to t…tell."

"Why you…!" Alena's eyebrows furrowed and she raised an arm, ready to strike the deranged man if that was what it would take to get some answers from him. However, he was more nimble than she had guessed and the dirty man skipped from her clutches.

The undertaker began dusting himself again. "Secret," he muttered to himself. "Only me dead keep secret. They no talk back to anyone, so they keep me secret."

"We can keep secrets, too," Timothy said, stepping forward.

"No, ye' can't," the undertaker said, looking away.

"Sure we can," the thief repeated. "I have a secret, so I won't tell you my secret, right?"

"Right…" he replied slowly.

"Therefore, I won't tell your secret," Timothy concluded, smiling. "Right?"

"Right…" the undertaker slowly said again. After what seemed like a moment's thought, he turned to Timothy, a stern look on his deranged face. "I tell you, not her," he said, pointing to Alena.

Shrugging, the princess stepped back and sat down on a tilted tombstone. She watched the undertaker lead Timothy into the shed, the thief giving her a reassuring salute before entering.

The princess sighed and leaned back, looking up through the canopy of birch and cedar trees. Light grey clouds slowly rolled over the bright blue sky behind them. The sky was beginning to overcast again despite a clear morning and rain seemed like a good possibility, as she had seen the sky grow overcast in such a manner many times before to understand the early signs of such weather.

What she had difficulty understanding, though, was just how Timothy had been able to get results from the deranged undertaker. It seemed as though he and Brey were always able to get what they needed through words instead of fists. Alena found she tended to go the other route, relying on her actions for results.

Maybe it would be a good idea to learn how to talk her way through situations. After all, as a Princess, she would need to employ such skills for diplomatic purposes. It would not be a good for her country should she strike the King of a country like Endor should she not get what she desired.

After a while, Timothy emerged from the shed, a worried look on his face as he stuffed a rolled parchment into his shirt. Upon approaching the princess, Alena sat upright and asked him what he found out.

"Come on," the thief said, roughly grabbing her by the arm.

"What?" Alena said, finally realizing something was wrong.

"We have to find the others," he replied sullenly. "This is going to be much tougher than I thought."

* * *

"Why are we here?" Brey asked, gazing up at the carving of Master Dragon. "This isn't really the time to go into prayers, Cristo."

"I don't know," the bodyguard mumbled, his eyes pointed forward as though in a trance. "I just… have a feeling about something."

"What?" the old tutor irritably demanded but no answer came forth, Cristo already having pushed the wooden doors open and entered the Zenithian Temple of Frenor.

The temple was not very large, perhaps able to hold fifty people during a sermon. Very few benches rested inside and a single podium stood at the centre opposite of Brey. Why it was so small, Brey could not understand. Perhaps it was a sign of how little devotion to the Zenithians there was in this far-flung corner of civilization. Without any large temples or churches around to influence the peasants, most of them mainly concentrated on their daily lives to just make ends meet. The temple here in Frenor seemed as though it was built merely as an afterthought.

Cristo was already at the other end of the temple, looking for the residing priest. Even after a few calls for him, no one appeared.

"There doesn't seem to be anyone here," Brey called from the other end of the temple. "We might as well…"

"Wait!" Cristo ordered, holding a hand up.

Brey looked at the bodyguard, irritation now growing. "Now listen, Cristo," he said, stamping his crooked staff on the stone cobbles of the floor. He thought its resounding echo would grab his attention but Cristo kept his face turned. "Cristo!" the old tutor shouted. "You just can't…"

Again, he was interrupted but from a different source. The priest Cristo had been calling for finally arrived through a door in the back of the temple. He was without his ceremonial hat, had garden gloves on his hands, and splotches of soil stained his robes. "Yes, yes," he said hurriedly to Cristo. "What can I do for you, my son?"

"I wish to use your Texts, if I may," Cristo replied.

"Mine?" the priest said, startled. "Why mine? I can tell you are a Zenithist as well so shouldn't yours be adequate?" It was apparent this priest was much busier with other things and wanted the two to leave quickly.

"As merely an apprentice cleric," the bodyguard explained, "my Texts are not as detailed as a priest's."

The priest rolled his eyes and sighed. "Fine," he irritably muttered, finally looking at Cristo in the face. "I'll be just… a… minute…" His voice trailed off, his eyes widening in shock. He stared at the bodyguard, drawing a curious look from both Cristo and Brey, before taking off towards one of the dorms. He quickly returned with a larger and thicker version of Cristo's Zenithian Texts. He placed it on the reading altar at the podium, cast a nervous glance in Cristo's direction, and rushed back the way he entered the temple.

"What was that about?" Brey asked, walking up to Cristo as he kept his gaze on the departing priest.

"I… don't know," he replied sincerely, watching the priest as well. Brey was not satisfied with the answer.

The old tutor opened his mouth to deliver a stinging remark but stopped. The bodyguard was already buried in the large book, flipping pages as he quickly gazed over each one of them. Brey furrowed his brow out of irritation. "_Now_ what are you looking for?" he asked sarcastically. "How many times the Master is praised and worshipped for using latrines?"

Cristo seemed to involuntary shake. "If you must know," he uttered through clenched teeth, "I'm looking for something on the golden bracelet."

Brey could not help but smile. _Good_, he thought, _he's getting angry again. Maybe he hasn't completely lost his mind after all_.

However, something did not make sense. Why would a treasure of the present be mentioned in literature written a millennium ago? "Cristo," the old tutor said at length, "I've read the Texts and not once was there any mention of a golden bracelet that I can recall."

"It's in here," the bodyguard said adamantly. "I know I saw it here before."

Brey let him flip a few more pages to humour the bodyguard but the old tutor's patience was wearing thin. "This is a waste of time," he said acidly.

"It's in here," Cristo repeated.

"Dammit, Cristo!" the old tutor shouted. "There's nothing in there! Do you _hear_ me? _Nothing_!" However, the bodyguard merely ignored him, continuing his search.

He was nearly ready to give up on Cristo when Brey heard someone call out his name at the front of the temple. Turning in that direction, he saw Alena and Timothy rushing up the centre aisle. "There you two are," Alena said. "Why are you here?"

"Cristo seems to think the town treasure is hidden in that book," Brey coldly replied, waving a hand in the bodyguard's direction. Cristo did not seem to notice, though, causing the old tutor to sigh in disgust.

"I'll do you one better," Timothy said, walking up to the podium. "We know where it is."

"What?" Brey exclaimed, leaping down from the podium. Excitement filled his body. Perhaps the whole ordeal would be over quicker than he could have hoped. "Where is it?"

"That's the problem," the thief said, somewhat sombrely. "It's not in Frenor but in a cave deep within orc territory south of here."

Brey's eyes widened incredulously. "How can you be certain?" he asked.

Timothy pulled out a parchment from his shirt and handed it to Brey. "This is a map to the cave," he explained. "Apparently, a few centuries ago, the golden bracelet was hidden there, as it caused too much strife among the townsfolk. However, they had never counted on the orcs growing in power in that region. Once that happened, many people eventually just gave up hope of ever reclaiming it and was forgotten."

"Except for a few stubborn thieves and adventurers, I presume," Brey said, studying the map intently.

Timothy nodded. "Only the people of the immediate region seem to be aware of it but it has turned mainly into an old wife's tale. Those adventurers who _do_ try and find it are normally unsuccessful."

"And I take it that the owner of this map was one such person?"

"Sort of," the thief slowly said. "The owner's father was the one but a sickness took his life before he could ever make such an attempt. He handed it down to his son so he may try but the death drove his son a little mad and he became the undertaker of Frenor's cemetery."

Brey looked up at the thief, a bushy eyebrow raised curiously. "Are you telling me you got all this information from a madman?" he asked. Timothy did not respond but that was all Brey needed to confirm his suspicion. "Then this is useless, for all we know," the old tutor grumbled, handing the map back.

"But it makes perfect sense, James," the thief said, hoping he might be able to convince him. "Why would local crooks go to so much trouble to kidnap the Princess? She would fetch a grand ransom and the villages would do anything to get it. Even risk their lives to get a seemingly mythical treasure deep in orc territory." Brey opened his mouth to argue but found he agreed with the thief.

He looked to Alena for her opinion on the matter. "I know it sounds a little unlikely," she offered, "but it wouldn't hurt to check it out anyway, right?"

Sighing, Brey turned to Cristo to see if the bodyguard would have anything to say but his nose was still buried in the massive Texts. "Okay," he muttered at length, "we'll go but you do realize that it will be very risky to venture into orc territory unprepared."

"I'll see what I can scrounge up," Timothy said, and he rushed out excitedly.

Brey turned to Cristo and shouted, "We're leaving, Cristo!"

"But I haven't found it yet," the bodyguard said.

"Then we'll leave you behind," Brey said coldly. He then grabbed Alena and they started to walk out.

"What's he looking for?" Alena asked, looking back to see Cristo _still_ hurriedly flipping pages.

"Nothing," Brey muttered. _Something to smarten the bastard up wouldn't hurt, though_, he thought bitterly.


	8. Chapter 7: In Search Of The Unattainable

Chapter 7: In Search Of The Unattainable

The companions left Frenor the next day, taking with them basic travelling supplies on one of Timothy's brahmirds. The thief decided to leave the wagon behind, fearing if they should come across orcs or even troglodytes, his assortment of wealth could be stolen from such bands of raiders. However, choosing which of the two stupid beasts of burden was not an easy decision; one was always sleeping, the other somewhat skittish. Would they want to take the sleepy one, wasting valuable time keeping it moving, or was the better alternative taking the restless one, running the risk of it suddenly taking off with their supplies should something as insignificant as a snapping branch startle it. In the end, Brey settled the mild debate with a flip of a gold coin. The nervous brahmird was chosen.

Timothy was also able to get new equipment for the party. Although Alena and Brey politely refused the chain mail the thief brought them, citing the armour was either too heavy or too uncomfortable, Cristo accepted Timothy's gifts of a new copper sword and a small, leather shield.

Alena could not help but smirk as she watched her bodyguard fumble with the shield as he strapped it to his arm. After all, it was a piece of equipment that he never really used before, perhaps only a few times during his training. Such an action belied his strange, stoic behaviour, and made Alena wonder whether his true character was buried underneath whatever strangeness was making him behave this way, or if he was merely acting. However, the princess did not think much else of it, realizing she would probably get no answers with his attitude.

Back on the road, the four travellers looked much more like warriors than what their backgrounds would tell others. With Alena and Timothy at the front, Brey lagging a bit behind, and Cristo assigned to "brahmird duty", the group made good distance within the first day. According to the map given to them, they were to follow the Old Merchant Road south for some distance until they came across a mountainous ridge. While the road would take the shortest route over the ridge, the map pointed out a landmark where they would have to turn to the west. No apparent road was said to be there but the map gave a somewhat vague path with various other small landmarks as the only reassurance you were not lost. Eventually, you would leave the hills and enter a forest where the cave was located in. Unfortunately, there were no landmarks within the forest. Your only way of finding the cave was with a little knowledge of the surrounding area, and a lot of luck.

In short time, the travellers were out of the bowl Frenor was nestled in and back onto the Old Merchant Road. By midday, the forest surrounding the aged road began to fade, giving way to a broad, open valley. In the distance, the ridge of low hills could be seen, thick clouds clinging to its edges. By Brey's estimate, they could make it to the ridge by the next day. Alena felt determined to make it there earlier, though, and ordered everyone to quicken their pace, much to her companions' displeasure.

Their attitudes did not impede her demeanour, though. Likewise, the open valley seemed to exhilarate her spirit. Given the fact most of her road travel had been under relatively impeding conditions, it was a new and welcome sensation creeping through the princess' body. The mountain road had been far too rigorous and the forest road felt cramped with the encroaching trees surrounding them. Cool valley winds caressing her face as a warm sun shone down on her was the sort of sensation Alena always dreamed about, had always felt when she would daydream back home. Despite all she had gone through on this journey, she felt it was worth it to have had the chance to experience this at least once.

The princess unconsciously glanced at Timothy who was walking beside her. Here was a man who was living the life she dreamed of, yet he wished to live the life she so desperately escaped. Why would he want to do that? Sure, a life of luxury would appeal to anyone without any social standing but, in Alena's opinion, such an existence was merely self-delusional. If anything, people such as the thief had much more freedom than she could ever hope for. For that reason, Alena not only had grown to admire Timothy's lifestyle but had also grown to admire the thief as well.

Perhaps he merely had different intentions other than to increase his social standing. He was, after all, a thief, and therefore could often have less than noble plans about his future. So far, he had not displayed any other motives but Alena had to be certain, or else her admiration of Timothy would be improper.

"Tim," she started, turning in his direction, "can I ask you something?"

The thief looked at Alena, a tiny smile creeping on his face. "You can," he replied, a soft chuckle following his words.

The princess blinked, not quite understanding what was funny. After a moment of confusion, she said, "Why are you so determined to be with the Princess?" There, not too blatant so he would be insulted, yet not too subtle so he could understand what she was trying to get at.

Unfortunately, Timothy seemed to miss the point when he replied, "It would be wrong for us not to do anything we can to save her, wouldn't it?"

Alena sighed, shaking her head. "That's not what I meant," she said. "You seem very determined to… uh, win her affection. Why is that?"

The thief looked at her for a moment, as if she had not been paying attention to a thing he had said when he first met her. "I thought I told you," he said, an eyebrow rising with confusion. "I hope that she will take me back with her so that I may be able to improve my standing, even, um, well…" He slightly flushed, rubbing the back of his neck out of embarrassment.

"I remember _that_ part," Alena smiled, a light giggle escaping as she recalled the thief's pitiful display when they had found out the reasons for his journey to Frenor. "What I don't understand, though, is _why_ you want to become like that."

Again, Timothy looked at her, confusion crossing his face. "Isn't it obvious?" he asked sincerely. When Alena shook her head, the thief said, "Everyone wants to improve their social status. Who wants to be a lowly peasant in the farthest reaches of a country when the opportunity to become a monarch is staring right in their faces?"

"But being a monarch isn't such a great thing," Alena argued. "You'd have to contend with the gripes of every single person within your kingdom, all the while constrained within your own castle because your subjects fear too much about your safety when you can easily take care of yourself!"

Alena stopped, suddenly realizing she was dumping her problems of being the Princess of Santeem right on this unsuspecting man. Had she already said too much? Or perhaps it was not enough? Perhaps it was about time to reveal to her companion the truth of her identity.

_ No,_ she thought, slightly turning away from the man. _That wouldn't be a good idea. He probably won't even believe me. My impostor has done an excellent job in fooling everyone, including him._

"What I'm trying to say, Tim," she said at length, "is I'm curious as to why you want to leave such a free life in favour of one filled with such constraint."

The thief smiled. "I guess I can see where you are coming from," he said.

Alena looked up at him, a nervous feeling coming about her as she wondered if he had guessed her background just from her little temperament.

"You have a life filled with unknowns, Alena," he continued. "A travelling warrior with no one to take orders from but herself. Indeed, who would want to be constrained behind castle walls when such a way of life is much more appealing to one who is as free spirited as you?"

"Indeed," Alena muttered, the irony of his words hitting the princess like the face of a club.

"I'm different, though," Timothy went on. "All my life, I've lived in dismal dwellings and with poverty as a constant companion. Even all the wealth I have in my wagon is practically useless as I could only reach a certain level of the social elite this far from civilization. I want more than that. For most of my life I've had to fend for myself. Just once I'd like to have someone else look after me, a good servant to take care of my needs. By the Master, I think that I deserve a break."

Alena remained silent, not knowing how to respond to such a claim. Timothy did have some strong points but she did not wish to see him make a grave error, especially since his plan would be all for naught in the end. The princess decided she would somehow make the thief see it, even if revealing her own identity was what it would have to take.

* * *

"Why do you have to still bug me about that?" Timothy whined, his face contorted in embarrassment. "It happened a day ago, so I think the humour should have worn off by now."

"Sorry," Alena giggled, some cooked meat dribbling out of her mouth. She tried to wipe herself clean but Brey's mention of Timothy's display of "heroism" the previous day spurred the amusing memory forth, causing the princess to burst forth in horrendous laughter.

"It's just… seeing you… rush…" Alena managed to say between fits of giggles.

The thief turned his attention to the source of his distress. "_Why_ did you have to bring that up, old man?" he asked. "It could have been easily forgotten by now but…"

"The camp was getting too quiet," Brey simply stated, "I thought it could use a bit of entertainment. And since the source of our usual jokes seems to be occupied…" He cast a glance at Cristo, so engrossed in his Texts he was practically unaware of what was going on around him.

"What possessed you attack that rock, anyway?" Alena finally was able to ask, wiping a few tears from her eyes.

Timothy sighed sullenly. "We went over that already, Alena," he muttered, poking at the campfire with a stick. "We don't need to hear it again."

The princess feigned a serious look, although it turned into more of a pout. "I demand that you tell it again," she ordered, an involuntary giggle escaping after.

The thief sighed again, then mechanically replied, "I thought it was a monster of some sort. The sun was casting a shadow on those rocks so I couldn't really tell. That's why I rushed forward when I did."

"You have to admit, Tim," Brey said, "the look on your face after you hit those rocks was priceless." The old tutor could not help but laugh as well, betraying the otherwise grumpy attitude he had retained during their three days on the road.

"Look," Timothy shot at his companions, "if I hadn't, we'd still be wondering aimlessly in those mountains."

"It's more of a coincidence than actual skill on your part," Brey pointed out. He paused, then added, "Besides, if it hadn't been you, Cristo here probably would have tripped over the landmark anyway." The old tutor looked at the bodyguard, perhaps expecting a rise out of their quiet companion. However, he remained placid as ever. Brey shrugged, expecting no less from him.

"Fine," the thief said sarcastically. "We'll forever remember this journey as 'The Daring Adventure Where Tim, The Whimsical And Handsome Thief, Protected The Spirited Young Alena From A Band Of Stationary Rocks'." Laughter erupted around the campfire. Even Cristo cracked a smile.

Later, Alena helped Timothy clean his cooking utensils and feed his brahmird. She was not used to laborious work such as this but, like any new experience, the princess welcomed the tasks, even if she did not overly enjoy them. However, it gave her a good opportunity to chat with her companion. While they did not actually talk specifically about the things that were on her mind, their conversation did take a few surprising twists and turns in topics as they shared a few laughs and playful punches.

Still, the topic Alena truly wanted to discuss with the thief was more or less unspoken. For some reason, she felt uncomfortable about asking him to remain in their party after this adventure was over. She would have to talk with one of her other companions and see if they could help.

She approached her tutor, who was quietly reading his spell book by the campfire. "Brey," she said, "could I talk with you for a moment?"

He looked up at her, a little stunned. "Me?" he said, raising a bushy eyebrow. "You seemed to be doing fine with Tim a moment ago."

Alena involuntarily blushed. "It's about him that I wanted to talk to you about," she said at length.

Sighing, the old tutor put down his book and picked up his walking staff. "Let's walk and talk, then, away from his ears." Alena nodded and the two of them left the campsite.

The night's air was chilly, being still in the hills. However, it was bearable, unlike the Mid-Range and its unforgiving weather. While there was no clear path to walk on, most of the forests in the area consisted of small pine trees, spread out in thin patches across the landscape. It would be difficult to get lost from a camp in the maze-like forest during the day; the night was a different story, however. The trees stood like giant shadows, blotting out whatever stars the clouds happened to miss. With no visible landmarks to guide them back to the camp, Alena and Brey ended far enough so the campfire could still be seen just over a low hill.

Brey sat down on a dry rock, placing his staff across his lap. He took in a deep breath of the night's chilly air, relishing it as though he had not breathed in such air for years. He then turned to Alena, whom had taken up a position against a thick pine trunk. "So," he said at length, "what is it that you wanted to talk about?"

The princess was quiet for a moment, trying to decide exactly how to phrase her words. She did not know whether Brey was the right person to be talking to about such a matter, as the old tutor had clearly displayed signs of despising the thief at times. However, if she could get him to see her side of things, then maybe even the shrewd tutor could somehow convince Timothy to stay with the group. Besides, he really was the only one she could talk with, Cristo acting so damned strange and all.

"Tell me, Brey," she said at last, "what do you think of Tim, as a companion?"

"He's useful," the old tutor replied without much thought. "He's a better cook than any of us, more knowledgeable of this region than any of us, and, despite his methods, has been resourceful so far." He cackled lightly before adding, "And he's provided more amusement than Cristo thus far."

Alena smiled. It had not been the response she had hoped for, but at least it was positive nonetheless. "Then you wouldn't have any objections if he joined our party," she said.

A stunned silence hung over the air. "What makes you think he would?" Brey eventually asked.

"That's where you come in," the princess replied, pointing at her tutor.

His eyes widened out of confusion. "Me?" he repeated.

"Yes, I'm sure you can convince him to…"

"Princess," Brey interrupted, "I seriously doubt that he would want to join us after this is over."

Alena frowned, irritated at her tutor's negative thoughts. "Why?" she asked.

"He thinks he's saving a Princess, who he believes he can woo into taking him back to the castle," the old tutor explained. "With such a tempting fate ahead, why would he want to remain with us?"

At that, Alena's face started to form into a pout. "Well, maybe it's time we reveal who we are to him," she suggested.

Brey shook his head. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?"

The old tutor sighed, a frown forming on his face. "I didn't want you to know of this," he said, "but we're being followed."

Alena's eyes widened in shock. "By who?"

"Do you remember the mercenary Flail?"

"Vaguely," she slowly replied. The last time she had even seen the man was back in Weser, under a fit of uncontrollable rage.

Brey nodded at her recognition. "Well, Cristo bumped into him when we were in Surene," the old tutor continued. "He knew we were there and probably would have found us in no time had we not left that same night. That's why we ran in such a hurry."

Alena blinked for a moment, a stunned expression pointed at her tutor. She could not believe her companions had been able to keep this from her for so long. If anything, they should have let her know right away. Bearing this in mind, the princess wondered what else they could be hiding from her.

"How can you be sure he followed us through the mountains?" she asked. Perhaps her tutor was being paranoid for nothing.

"Trust me," Brey replied grimly, "he has. That is why it is more important than ever that our identities remain hidden."

Alena was quiet for a moment. The implications of her tutor's words were indeed grim, especially if they remained in one spot for too long. She did not know much of the reputed mercenary, but, judging from Brey's accounts alone, he was not one to deal with lightly.

However, she found they had strayed off topic. Perhaps it was about time to find out Brey's true feelings about the subject of Timothy remaining with their party. "Brey," she asked, "would you mind if Tim stayed with us?"

The old tutor was silent for several moments. "No," he replied at length. "As I've said before, he _is_ useful to have around."

Alena's smile broadened. "Then how do we go about getting him to stay?"

Brey rubbed his white whiskers for a moment. "He would have to _want_ to stay," he concluded. "Some reason that outweighs his desire to be with a princess. Therefore, I doubt he could be tricked into staying."

"And revealing our identities isn't an option, I take it," Alena said.

"Right," Brey nodded. "Even if he believes us, it's still not a certainty he'll stay. If he doesn't, and Flail gets his hands on him, we'd all be in big trouble. I doubt you want that sort of guilt on your consciousness." The princess nodded, the reality of his words disturbingly true.

However, a thought entered her mind. "But we could still tell him if he joins, right?" she asked, somewhat hopefully.

Brey looked at the princess for a moment, a little stunned by her words. "_If_ he joins willingly," he replied, "then there wouldn't be any harm, no."

A flashing sense of hope seemed to enter the princess' mind. "How do we do that, then?" she eagerly asked.

The old tutor sighed and stood up, leaning on his walking staff. "That's something you're going to have to do," he replied. "I don't want any part of it."

A full pout formed on Alena's face. "Why not?" she demanded.

"This is your obsession, not mine," he replied sternly. He started to walk back to the camp, but stopped, turning to face the princess. "Come to think of it," he added, a bushy eyebrow rising curiously, "why _are_ you so obsessed with Tim joining us?"

"What?" Alena exclaimed, her eyes wide with shock from Brey's accusation. "I'm not…"

However, her tutor, who had an equally shocked expression on his face, promptly interrupted her. "Don't tell me you're falling in love with him!" he alleged, now pointing at the princess.

Alena's eyes widened further, if such a thing could be possible. "No, I'm not!" she quickly responded, no sound argument coming to mind.

However, Brey was intently studying her mannerisms now that they had brought up the subject. "Yes, I think you are," he said. "The way you're always flirting with him, I'm surprised I didn't see it before."

"That's _nonsense_!"

The old tutor was unconvinced with her defence. "Alena," he said, "if this is why you want him to join us, stop now. Nothing good can come of this. You're only going to end up hurting yourself."

Rage began to build inside the princess, her fists tightly clenching and unclenching. How could he be making such accusations? And _why_ were they affecting her so _much_? Could what he was saying be true? Could she really…?

"What would _you_ know of it?" she demanded, her eyes narrow.

Brey frowned. "Enough to know that this could be the biggest mistake of your life!" he shot back, hoping the remark would deliver the final blow to end her silly obsession.

At that, so much anger and frustration formed inside the princess that she could have lashed out at her tutor, perhaps even unintentionally killing him on the spot. However, a different emotion seemed to take hold of her, pushing back even her rage. She could not believe even _if_ she were falling in love with Tim, her tutor, one of her closest friends, would not help her in seeing it come true. Was she really so alone with her hopes and desires in this world?

Without thinking, she darted into the surrounding forest, tears uncontrollably spilling from her eyes, her sobs quietly echoing in the still night.

"Alena!" Brey cried, reaching out a hand in a futile attempt to stop her. The old tutor silently cursed himself. Had he gone too far? Had he accidentally pushed her into another state of confusion? If so, she could easily get lost in these mountains. The guilt he would have if such a thing happened would be too much to estimate. Grimly, he set out into the forest to find her.

He did not have to search far, however, when he heard a screech of terror. "Damn," he muttered into his whiskers. What sort of creature had she bumped into in these Master-forsaken hills? Judging the area where he heard the scream, Brey quickened his pace.

Soon, he passed a pine tree with a large dent in its trunk, the sort of thing someone with a lot of strength could make if they punched into it. _Or rage_, the old tutor thought wryly. However, maybe it was a good sign, as the Princess had merely screeched in pain when she discovered that pine tree trunks were not quite the same as castle stone walls.

He found Alena nearby, standing away from him in a small clearing. "Princess," he quickly said upon seeing her, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean…"

His voice trailed off, noticing that she was looking at something at the edge of the clearing. "What is that?" she asked, her voice showing no sign of rage or confusion.

Silently thanking the Master she was all right, Brey hobbled forward to get a better look at what had captured the Princess' attention. He sucked in his breath as he did so.

The creature was quite dead, as only its head remained. Dark blood was splattered across its face, almost matching its dark-pink skin and crimson, matted hair. Large, pointed ears were on each side, rodent skulls hanging off them like earrings. Its eyes had been ripped out from their sockets and its tongue hung loosely from its mouth, open in a silent scream of death. On top of its head, a single, bony spike jutted from its skull. In behind the spike was another, this one made of wood as the head was impaled on a large stake.

Brey had never seen the creature in the wild before, merely in books. However, he had studied enough on them to recognize an orc if he saw one. Therefore, he also recognized the warning such a display exhibited: this was the border of an orc clan territory.


	9. Chapter 8: Seduction And Entrapment

Chapter 8: Seduction And Entrapment

The hills eventually levelled off and gave way to a forest. From here, the travellers would be on their own. The map had done its part in guiding them here but, with no noticeable landmarks in the forest, they were going to have to put their navigation skills to their ultimate test in order to find this cave. A patch of an ancient path, man-made markings, or anything to ensure them they were on the right track.

The travellers were going to have to keep their eyes open for more than landmarks, though. The discovery of the orc head put everyone's nerves on edge. Roving bands could suddenly burst through the surrounding forest, perhaps ending their journey early. With such a looming possibility hanging over their heads, the travellers kept their senses sharp, watching the woods for any warning signs that such a band was lying in wait for unsuspecting wayfarers.

Should a band of orcs suddenly ambush them though, Alena, usually the first to react in any combative situation, probably would be the last to notice. Her thoughts were still focused on the discussion she had with her tutor the previous night. Could what he accused her of really be true? Could she really be falling in… love?

Her mind was reeling in uncertainty. The only sort of love she had ever truly displayed before was towards her father, so whatever the sensations other forms of love were they would be new to her. And should she be falling in love with Timothy, she somehow felt compelled to pursue that course of action.

Why, though? What could this common thief have that would make the Princess of Santeem become infatuated with him? It could not be his appearance, as Alena had seen plenty of other, more attractive men who did not interest her in the slightest. The wealth hidden in his wagon could not be a factor either, as Alena had seen enough wealth to the point it sickened her. If not anything tangible, then it would have to be something to do with Timothy himself. Alena did find the thief pleasant to be around, as he could express jokes without being too mean and take insults with good humour. At times he could be a bit obnoxious, but the princess felt it could easily be ignored in light of his more amiable traits.

Was _that_ what love was all about? To be able to look over the rough edges of someone you admire and only focus on the good in a person? Maybe it was only a single factor. Maybe there was much more to it, and much more complicated.

Of course it would have to be more complicated than one factor. Both people would have to be able to express their love. Would Timothy be able to do that, though? They had kept their relationship during the past week merely on a professional level, as one travelling companion to the other. However, looking back, Alena realized it was mainly due to her actions on their first night as companions. For all she knew, Timothy could have truly fallen in love with her that night, only to have his hopes shattered. Had she not twisted the thief's arm, who knows what may have occurred from that point on. They could at this very moment be travelling in lands unknown, facing danger and excitement hand in hand. In essence, that was what they were doing right now, but it just seemed much more… romantic in Alena's vision.

The princess felt she was going to have to quell Timothy's fear of her in order for him to remain with their group. In order to do that, though, she was going to have to show him she was not a pure, aggressive warrior underneath her royal skin. She was going to have to show the thief that she still had femininity inside her, and he could be much happier with her instead of an impersonator of her.

That night, when they set for camp, Alena found her chance…

* * *

"I'm going to see if I can find some food," the thief announced once they got a small fire going. "It seems as though James here doesn't think we serve him enough and has to dip into our stores all the time."

Brey merely shrugged in defence. However, a hint of concern crossed his face when he said, "I don't think you should be going off alone in these woods, Tim. It is too dangerous to venture out without knowing what may be out there. Our food supply is fine for now."

"Not the way you've been eating, old man," Tim pointed out. "We'd all die of starvation sooner than by an orc attack. And I think I'll be perfectly fine by myself. We haven't seen any sign of orcs or their landmarks since last night. They're probably much more spread out in their territory than we think." Before Brey could retort, the thief was off into the woods.

Alena sat still for a few moments, her eyes fixed on the patch of forest Timothy had entered. Excitement ran through her body as she saw her chance handed to her. Now all she had to do was capitalize on it.

"I'm going with him," she eventually stated, standing up from the damp grass and strapping her weapons to their ready positions. "He really shouldn't go alone."

Brey opened his mouth to argue, but did not say anything. Instead, he gave the princess a disapproving frown, fully understanding what her real intentions were. However, as he was often finding the case, Alena was going to have to find things out for herself. All he could really do was offer advice, which he already had.

Alena turned to Cristo, fully expecting the protective bodyguard to instantly jump to his feet and offer to go with her as well. She was surprised to find him still buried in his Texts, completely ignoring her. The princess could not help but feel a tiny bit of jealousy, but did not let it affect her. She had more important things on her mind.

Seeing no other forces that could prevent her from following Timothy, the princess strode off in pursuit of the thief.

Following his path was not too difficult, even in the moonless night. Most of the surrounding forest was thick with bushes and scrub, and anyone who tried to make their way through it would definitely make a trail, no matter how careful they were. However, Alena found herself tracking the thief for quite some time. It soon became apparent he had wandered quite some distance, making Alena wonder if he had become lost.

Eventually, the forest gave way to a small clearing where a tiny stream quietly trickled down into a calm pool of water. Maple and oak trees surrounded the area but were spread away from each other to allow the area right above the pool a perfect view of the stars. A light mist rose from the pool of water and, with no moon to cast glowering shadows from the trees, gave an almost ethereal feeling in the clearing.

So entranced by the scene was Alena that she did not notice a figure suddenly appear from behind her and tackle her to the ground. The princess was taken completely by surprise and instantly found herself on the ground, her assailant pinning her on her back. Alena would have been quick to escape the hold, probably severely injuring her assailant in the process. However, she did not react as she quickly recognized who had taken her by surprise: Timothy! Alena smiled, finding she did not mind being in such a position now.

The thief, not as quick to recognize his companion, stared dumbfounded at the princess. "Alena!" he finally exclaimed. "What are you doing here? I thought I told you all that I'd go alone." At that, he hopped off her, extending a hand to help her up.

"I acted on my own," Alena explained, graciously taking the thief's hand. "Surely you should know by now that I'm prone to do that, right?" She smiled again once she came into eye contact. Timothy seemed to stare at her for a moment, confused by her smile.

An uneasy silence was held for several moments, the only sound coming from the light splashing of the stream. Eventually, Timothy let out an embarrassed cough and retrieved his hand. "So," he said uneasily, "why did you follow me?"

Alena let out a tiny giggle. "There are some things I want to talk to you about," she replied, confidence building inside her upon seeing the thief's uneasiness. If there was one, non-fighting skill the princess _did_ possess, it was her ability to break uncomfortable barriers between people.

She sauntered over to the edge of the pool and sat down at its bank. "Come and join me," she smiled, patting the grass beside her. Timothy raised an eyebrow curiously, but did as asked. Once the thief was sitting beside her, Alena began to take off her boots and socks, dipping her feet into the pool. The water was cold, but days under direct sunlight had kept it tolerable, even at night. The princess began to wade her feet back and forth, causing tiny ripples across the surface to cascade rhythmically into the mist at the far end of the pool. Leaning back on her hands, Alena tilted her head towards Timothy, who was sitting cross-legged at the bank. Again the princess giggled, this time at the thief's rigid posture. "It's all right," she assured. "The water's fine. Join me, why don't you?"

The thief looked at her for a moment, unsure how to proceed. Eventually, he shrugged, took off his boots and socks, and dipped his feet into the water as well. He shivered for a second, but quickly adapted to the cold water, leaning back on his hands as well. Alena gave him a playful punch in the arm, smiling. "There, that wasn't so hard, now was it?" she teased.

"Alena," Timothy muttered without even looking at her, "what is it that you want to talk to me about?"

Her smile turned to a tiny frown, a little upset that the thief was not letting her have any fun. "Tim," she said at length, turning back to the pool, "how would you feel if you stayed with us?"

The thief was quick to respond. "You already know full well that I won't. My plan is to go with the Princess of Santeem, and nothing anyone can do is going to deter me from that course of action."

At his response, Alena wanted so much to blurt who she really was, but Brey's warning still stuck in her mind. She may not have much respect for the tutor after the verbal thrashing he gave her the other night, but she at least respected the point about Flail.

"I'm not saying that you will," Alena eventually said, "but I'm merely asking you how you would feel _if_ you stayed."

Timothy tilted his head to the starry sky, pondering the princess' question. "Probably not much different than now," he simply replied. He turned to face Alena, then added, "Except I may have an aura of bitterness about me, having missed my chance to finally-"

"Why must you insist on that course of action, Tim?" Alena suddenly blurted out, her face almost in a pout.

"We went over this already, Alena," the thief frowned.

"Yes, but…" she started, but let out a heavy sigh, knowing full well that any argument in that direction would lead to a dead end. The only way she was going to get him to understand was to tell him the truth about her feelings. From there, she could only see how Timothy would react to such a proclamation.

"Tim," she said, looking deep into his eyes, "I… don't think I could bear to see you leave our group because… because…" She found the words difficult to say, as she would be admitting something to herself that even _she_ could not believe was happening. Looking into the thief's eyes, the princess could tell he was eagerly anticipating what she was going to say. Whether it was because he had already suspected her feelings for him or he was genuinely curious as to what she was about to say, Alena did not know. However, she hoped it was the latter, or else she may end up looking like a fool.

"…Because… I… love you, Tim," the princess finally managed to say, her eyes still locked with his.

Silence filled the clearing. Even the gentle trickling of the stream seemed to grow quiet, as though it was eager to hear the thief's response as well.

Timothy blinked a few times, his eyes wide with surprise. His mouth was open as though he was eager to express his feelings, but it seemed a force had taken his voice and prevented him from speaking. The silence was intolerable, but Alena had made her move. Now it was Timothy's turn to act.

After what seemed an eternity, the thief broke their locked gaze as he stood up. He grabbed his footwear and muttered, "We should be getting back to the camp. The others will start to worry." He then started to walk away.

Timothy knew most women who would make such a proclamation would forever be crushed, wondering what it was they had done wrong to not have the object of their affection return it as well. Women in the past had made similar announcements, crying for days before carrying on with their life. It was what Timothy had grown to expect from women, so why not now?

However, one thing the thief had not counted on was Alena was not like most women, and could rarely accept defeat.

Before the thief could leave the clearing, Alena bounced up and leaped at Timothy, grabbing him by the neck. She roughly spun him around and clamped her hands on both sides of his head so he would not have any chance of escape. A playful, devilish grin formed in her face as she gazed upon his shocked face. "Let them worry," she cooed into his ear, and leaned up on her toes, firmly placing her lips to his.

The princess did not know why she just made such a bold move. She had thought about doing this before but doubted the courage to carry it through lay within her. Even when the thief rejected her, she had to think it over, worrying about the consequences if she did. Would Timothy be insulted now, thinking this was a last, desperate act by a desperate woman?

It did not matter. Just to be able to feel his lips against hers, at least once, made it seem all worth the risk.

They held that position for several moments, although Timothy was less than receptive of Alena's kiss. Eventually, the thief was able to squirm free of the princess' iron grip on his head. "Alena!" he exclaimed, unable to get away as she now had her arms wrapped around his waist. "Just what do you think you're doing?"

"I told you I love you," she simply stated, keeping her eyes locked onto his. "And now I'm showing you I mean it."

Timothy ceased his squirming for a moment, a sudden thought entering his head. "What about before?" he asked, implying their first night as companions.

Alena looked down for a moment, a sweet smile forming on her lips - the same smile she had given the thief when she nearly broke his arm. "I've reconsidered…" she replied, turning her gaze back onto Timothy before giving him another firm kiss.

The thief thought about his position for a moment, unsure how to proceed. Several negative factors tried to work their way into his mind, most poignant of them the thought of a Princess to be saved and woo upon her rescue. If he had Alena by his side when the time came, _any_ woman would be unimpressed by a man looking for two companions.

Yet, the smell of Alena's hair and the contact of her small, strong body against his; the taste of her sweet lips. His arguments instantly shattered before his overwhelmed senses. He did the only thing any man could do.

He embraced the princess back, and they both fell to the grass by the misty pool.

* * *

Cristo suddenly looked up from his Texts, his head darting left and right. "Where's Alena and Tim?" he asked.

"Who knows," Brey muttered, reading his own spell book by the tiny campfire.

The bodyguard did not seem to pay attention to the old tutor's reply and bolted up, grabbing his sword and darting towards the area of the forest their companions had disappeared into.

"Cristo!" Brey shouted. "Just where do you think you're going?"

The bodyguard paused just at the edge of the forest but did not turn to face the old tutor. "I have to find the Princess," he replied, his voice uneasy. "I don't have time to explain." At that, he disappeared into the forest.

"Cristo!" Brey called out after him, his hand outstretched in a futile attempt to stop him. "Damn it!" he muttered, standing up. He could not let Cristo run off to find Alena and Tim, especially if what the old tutor suspected the Princess was doing was true. Should the bodyguard suddenly burst in on them, the scene would be unpleasant to think about.

Grumbling as he did so, the old tutor grabbed his walking staff and dashed into the forest, hoping to intercept Cristo before he stumbled upon Alena and Tim.

* * *

"…And that one," Timothy said, pointing to the stars, "is the constellation of Master Dragon." He turned his head, looking at Alena who was lying on the grass beside him. "I'm sure Cristo has told you that many times," he smiled.

"Not really," she lied, smiling back as she ran her fingers though his hair. It was cute how the thief was explaining each of the constellations to her, especially since Brey had ingrained them into her early in her childhood. However, she found it pleasing to be able to lie in the cool, damp grass beside the man she had come to love and listen as he mixed up Ramia, the Great Phoenix, with Ramia, the Great Bird.

Stealing a quick peck to Timothy's cheek, the princess sat up, lightly brushing the moisture from her back. The evening had been more of a success than she had hoped. Timothy's affection towards her had proven he _would_ be happy if he stayed with their group. Should her impostor be exposed as the phoney she was, he would have every desire then to stay with Alena. Definitely something to consider, to say the least, if it would lead to more nights like this.

However, _this_ night was going to have to end. They had been away from the camp for at least an hour now. Should her companions come searching for them, the last thing Alena wanted was for Brey and Cristo to stumble across them while engaged in the heat of passion; although, the princess would not mind rubbing the fact in her tutor's face she was right and he was wrong. "We should start to head back," she said, starting to stand up.

She found herself suddenly pulled back down, the thief's hand on her arm. "They can wait for a while," he smiled, and Alena smiled back before they shared more kisses. This was going almost _too_ good to be true!

A rustling in the surrounding forest brought the princess back from her euphoric high. _Guess they finally found us_, she thought bitterly. Hearing Timothy's disappointed sigh indicated he shared her exact feelings; another good sign. Stealing one more kiss, Alena sat up and called out into the forest, "All right, you can stop watching. We know you're here, old man!"

A spear flew from the bushes, its aim less than true as it flew just above the surprised princess' head and splashed into the pool behind them. "What on…?" Alena gasped, unconsciously touching the top of her head to make sure it had not been cut.

Another spear flew from the bushes but this time the two were more prepared, and were able to roll away from the flying weapon before it hit. Alena brought her hand to her hip, grabbing the whip that was still coiled on her belt. Timothy, who only had a tiny dagger for a weapon, grabbed the spear impaled in the ground and held it defensively. "Who's there?" he called out.

No words were given as the hidden attackers made themselves known, and none were required. Their actions clearly displayed their intentions as five smaller creatures dressed in ratty clothes and armed with small clubs and dull, rusty blades, burst into the clearing and screeching a terrible battle cry. Alena's first thought was they were troglodytes, just from their size. However, she grimly recognized the heads; albeit in much better condition than the one she saw before but similar nonetheless. These were orcs.

Alena's eyes grew wide with alarm, the implications of their predicament clearly obvious. They were outnumbered, but perhaps not yet outmatched. The opponents were _definitely_ smaller than her or Timothy, and sometimes a battle could be won by shear individual strength. The princess snapped her whip, halting the orcs' charge for an instant so she and Timothy could think of a plan. Escape was not an option, as the pool was directly behind them and the orcs had formed a tight semi-circle around them. They could perhaps charge forward, breaking the enemy's ranks, but Alena did not think they could get far before the monsters caught up with them.

In any event, the least they could do was perhaps even the odds. Still snapping her whip, the princess quickly leapt at an orc on her immediate right, hoping to take it by surprise. Unfortunately, the monster seemed to be prepared for such an attack, and easily dodged. Alena stumbled forward but was quick to spin around to face her attacker. Two orcs were there, their clubs already swinging. The princess had no time to dodge or block and took the weapons squarely on her right arm. The force of the blow was greater than she could have imagined, and was knocked to the ground, clutching her arm as the pain of what felt like broken bone was excruciating.

"Alena!" Timothy called out, very nearly rushing to her aid. He stopped, though, as he knew the moment he dropped his defensive posture, the three remaining orcs would be upon him in an instant. He could only grimly wait for an opportunity, keeping his wooden spear ready should any of the remaining orcs show him one.

The princess desperately held back her tears of pain, realizing they would only be a distraction. Her right arm was useless and her left was never adept to fighting on its own. However, as the orcs started to descend upon her, Alena found there were other weapons available other than her arms. Rolling on her back, she managed to catch the orcs with her feet and push them away before they could deliver a final blow with their clubs. The monsters, unsuspecting their victim had any fight left in her, were sent reeling back, one even stumbling into the pool behind them.

The splash was all the distraction Timothy needed.

The thief swung his weapon in a horizontal arc, intent on perhaps cutting a deep gash into the closest orc. Unfortunately, the weapon's wooden tip did very little other than tear a hole into the orc's simple clothes, and only infuriated the monster. Armed with rusty blades, two orcs began attacking Timothy, the other rushing to help its companion against Alena. The thief did his best to fend off the attacks but the clumsy spear could not hope to block every strike, and soon his body was covered in tiny, painful cuts.

Alena, spurred forth by a burst of adrenaline upon seeing her enemies repealed back, leaped onto her feet, ready to take out her dryer opponent. She caught the movement of the charging orc out of the corner of her eye, and was able to dodge at the last possible moment, letting the monster stumble forward. Gritting her teeth as she let go of her useless arm, the princess was able to get her left arm up in time to catch the orc by the throat, knocking it to the ground. Grimacing as she did so, Alena jumped up and firmly slammed her bare feet into the monster's chest, crushing its ribcage. The princess did not relish in such an attack, but knew she needed to get quick results for a victory.

The snapping of a spear's shaft turned Alena's attention towards her love, and she saw the thief staring dumbfounded at the bottom portion of his spear. "Tim!" she cried out, her feet already positioned for a sprint to his aid. She quickly found herself face first in the grass, two orc hands wrapped around her ankle. Angrily, she lashed out her other foot, smashing it into the monster's face. It could not help but grab its face in agony, letting the princess go.

She scrambled up, rushing to Timothy's aid. The thief had fallen back, futilely covering himself with his arms as the two orcs prepared to bring down their rusted blades. Gritting her teeth, Alena did not think she would get there in time.

A flurry of movement from the bushes briefly brought the princess' attention there as a figure erupted from the forest, bowling over one of the orcs about to end Timothy's life. "Cristo!" Alena exclaimed but did not let the bodyguard's sudden appearance deter her from her path. The second orc, surprised by Cristo's attack, did not notice Alena until the princess had rammed her left shoulder into the monster's chest, following through until she made contact with the trunk of a maple tree, crushing the orc between. The vibration sent a searing pain through her right arm but the princess took it resolutely.

She turned around to see her bodyguard plunging his copper sword deep into the orc's chest, ending its life with a gurgled scream. "Cristo!" Alena and Timothy both said, disbelief in their eyes. "What are you doing here?" the princess asked, helping a scratched Timothy up.

The bodyguard opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off when Brey burst into the scene as well. "Cristo!" he was yelling. "Where _are_ you? Get back… oh!" The old tutor sucked in his breath upon seeing the once tranquil clearing turned into a battlefield.

"Where did _you_ come from?" Alena cried, her eyes wide with disbelief.

The old tutor snorted. "Cristo here decided to inexplicably run off looking for you two," he replied. "I tried to stop him but…"

A hideous shriek interrupted Brey, causing the four travellers to involuntarily cover their ears. They turned and saw an orc in the pool, its head tilted up, shrieking into the night sky. "You seem to have missed one," the old tutor muttered. He chanted some magical words and a spear of ice formed at his hands, throwing the projectile directly into the head of the remaining orc. It convulsed for a moment, then fell forward, floating face-first in the still water.

"Now then." Brey turned back to Cristo and started tapping him with his walking staff. "You have some explaining to do, young man."

"I have to help Alena's arm first," the bodyguard calmly said. "It's broken."

"My arm can wait," the princess interjected, grimly holding it. Her adrenaline level was subsiding and the severity of the injury was becoming apparent. However, she was also curious as to why her bodyguard had suddenly decided to go searching for her, especially when he had not displayed any concern for her before.

Cristo found himself cornered against the pool, all three of his companion's eyes intently drilling into him. However, if he was at all nervous, he certainly did not display it. He remained silent for several moments, as though he was desperately thinking of an excuse. "I don't really know how to explain myself," he said at length, looking down.

"_Not_ the answer I wanted!" Alena growled, her bodyguard's attitude finally setting her nerves on edge. She roughly grabbed his shirt, violently shaking him. "I'm _sick_ and _tired_ of this act you're doing, Cristo! I want it to…"

"W…wait!" he stuttered. Alena let go of him, expecting an answer finally. However, none was forthcoming as the bodyguard grabbed his sword, still oozing with dark orc blood. He then went into a defensive posture, eyeing the surrounding forest suspiciously.

"Cris," Timothy said, looking at the bodyguard with bewilderment, "just what do you think…"

He held up a hand, silencing the thief. "There's… something out there," he uttered, bringing his sword up.

"What?" Timothy asked incredulously. "Where? How can…?"

The bushes erupted with movement, strange chattering emanating from the forest. Timothy backed up against the pool, his tiny dagger up. Brey backed up as well, his walking staff in both hands defensively as 'Icebolt' began to come to mind. Alena darted for her whip, grabbing it with her left arm. She did not know how effective it would be with her seldom-used arm, but having a weapon in her hand made her feel more comfortable nonetheless.

Hideous shrieking pierced the night as at least a dozen orcs bust into the clearing, carrying all sorts of weapons from tiny clubs, rusted swords, and wooden spears. The odds were clearly in favour of the monsters, as the travellers could have no hope in defeating them all. However, Cristo seemed to have different intentions.

"Keep them back for a few seconds," he ordered his companions.

"What!" they all exclaimed, but Cristo did not give any details, his sword placed back in its scabbard and his hands put together in prayer. They could not believe this happening, but if a prayer to the Master was what it would take to get them out of this most perilous of situations, so be it.

Alena lashed her whip out, the weapon moving in a wide, clumsy motion as her left arm was not sufficient enough to use it properly. However, it was enough to momentarily stop the monsters' advance. A four-foot spear of ice flew forward, impaling one of the lead orcs and sending it flying back, knocking down two others as it convulsed with agony. Timothy, whose weapon was useless until close range battle (something none of them wished for), could only swing the dagger in wild arcs, yelling and screaming at the orcs to stay back - a sound strategy, to say the least, until the monsters gained enough courage to charge forward despite the thief's threats. And, with their superior numbers, such a tactic would be executed in short time.

As Brey prepared another 'Icebolt', he glanced over to Cristo, anxious to know what the bodyguard was up to. Had he not been occupied with the current threat, the old tutor probably would have stared with disbelief. Cristo was still in a praying stance, but was chanting in a language that Brey had never heard! Before the old tutor could ponder it, the bodyguard suddenly threw his arms out, shouting, "Surround!"

A wave of white light engulfed the clearing, causing everything inside to briefly shield their eyes. Alena was the first to open her eyes again, and nearly dropped her whip in shock. Literally dozens of images of her, Timothy, Cristo, and Brey were scattered about the area. Some were standing prone between orcs, some right on the surface of the pool, others half buried in trees! Upon gaining their eyesight back, the orcs stared around in confusion, wondering where the multiple enemies had come from. A couple slashed their weapons at some of the mirages, only to discover they were not really there.

"Quick!" Cristo ordered, his sword already in his hand again. "While they're disorientated. We have to get out of here!" His companions, although stunned by what the bodyguard just did, whole-heartedly agreed. Taking advantage of the orcs' confusion, the travellers darted between the monsters and into the forest, hoping they would not become lost in the thick bushes before the monsters realized what had happened.

Once they felt they were a safe distance for the moment, the travellers stopped to catch their breath. "Where should we go?" Alena asked, gently rubbing her right arm.

"The camp," Brey simply replied. "We have to make sure our supplies haven't been found yet." The others agreed and they hastily made their way back.

While the clearing had been some distance away, they were able to find their camp with relative ease, their original trail still fresh. However, they had a problem upon arriving. The brahmird, still tied to a tree, was in a panicked state, apparently from hearing the battle. Most of their supplies were still strapped to the large beast's back and were nearly impossible to grab. Timothy started to creep up to the brahmird, his voice easy and soothing as he tried to calm the beast. A hideous screech of orcs from the surrounding forest reminded the travellers of their situation, and spooked the brahmird further, erasing any success Timothy may have had.

"We don't have time for this," Brey muttered disgustingly. He cast 'Icebolt', and threw the spear of ice at the brahmird's head. Blood splattered across the wood's surface as the beast instantly stopped its screeching, the deadly projectile pinning its head to the trunk of the tree. Its mouth and eyes were still wide open, as though its torment had not ended even in death. Alena could not help but gasp at the hideous spectacle, instantly turning away.

Timothy sucked in his breath, the old tutor's action taking him by shock. Fury in his eyes formed as he turned toward Brey. "Was that _really_ necessary, James?" he angrily shot.

"It was," the old tutor coldly replied, walking up to the dead beast. He proceeded to take off a few of the bags of food strapped to its back. "It's only going to be a burden with orcs on our trail," he added callously, tossing the bags to Timothy and Cristo.

He noticed Alena was turned away, her shoulders lightly bobbing up and down. Sighing, Brey hobbled over to the princess, resting his hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry you had to see that, dear," he muttered, "but there wasn't-"

Cristo suddenly glanced around the camp, his blade brought up defensively. "What is it?" Brey asked, forgetting Alena and focusing on the bodyguard.

"They're coming."


	10. Chapter 9: Flight Into The Night

Chapter 9: Flight Into The Night

The night went from bad to worse.

Unable to fight overwhelming numbers, the travellers could do little more than hide, distastefully watching as their supplies were ransacked by the orcs. Some unsubstantial food supplies, Cristo and Brey's books, and Timothy's flintlock were all they were able to salvage before ducking into the bushes. Once the monsters were through with their belongings, the travellers made a hasty dash away before ducking down again as Cristo warned them of the impeding danger. Thus was how their night progress: run and hide, run and hide, gaining no ground whatsoever.

Faring the worst was Alena. Without any time to remain hidden for more than a few minutes, Cristo was unable to tend to her seemingly broken arm. In addition, her feet were still naked, taking in countless tiny thorns, branches, and other painfully sharp objects. The most she could manage was a weak hobble, clenching her teeth resolutely as not to give away their position with a muffled yelp of pain.

However, the most painful injury she had taken was emotional. Her perfect night had turned into a nightmare. Timothy and her sharing their affection for each other by the misty pool gave the evening an ethereal, dreamlike memory. Orcs turning it into a battlefield angered her. She so much wanted to make her presence known to the monsters so they would all come charging after her, making it that much easier to pick them off one by one until her rage towards them was quenched. Yet, the thing disturbing the princess the most was Brey's cruel solution to calming the brahmird. The gruesome sight was one of the most horrifying spectacles she had ever seen. And having Brey, a man whom she had grown up to respect and admire as a grandfather, initiate such an act made it all the more hideous.

Indeed, _why_ did any perfect night have to be ruined by such traumatic experiences?

"Down!" Cristo's placid voice commanded. The travellers instantly dropped underneath the bushes, remaining absolutely still. Three orcs entered the area, rusty blades in their hands as they searched the bushes with glowing, pupil-less eyes.

"Only three," Brey mouthed. "Think you can take them out?" Timothy and Cristo nodded, but Alena shook her head. Although she would have loved the chance for a little payback for her ruined evening, as well as being a part of the action, her body was in no condition for a confrontation at this point. The old tutor nodded and the two men leaped from their hiding place, descending upon the startled orcs quickly.

As the two men did their work, Brey turned to Alena, a wry smile on his face. "So," he quietly asked, "did you succeed?"

"What?" Alena asked, turning to face her tutor with annoyance.

"Did you convince Tim to join us?"

The princess glowered at her tutor. They were in the most desperate situation of their lives, and he had the audacity to ask her about _that_? If her arm were not broken, Alena would have punched the tutor right there. However, she merely growled, "I don't want to talk to you right now, old man." Brey frowned at her for a moment, a little stunned by the acid in her voice, but said nothing.

Timothy and Cristo were finished with the orcs within moments, allowing Brey and Alena to come out from their hiding place. "Let's rest for a moment while we can," the thief suggested, breathing a little heavy as he wiped his dagger clean with the ragged clothes of one of the orcs. The others could only agree, the night's trials weighing down on them.

Brey bent down to study one of the slain orcs, eager to study one of the creatures while he had the chance. Timothy rummaged through the orcs' belongings, seeing if they had anything of value or salvageable. Alena, most exhausted of the four, merely plopped down on the tall, wet grass, taking the opportunity to perhaps get a few of the thorns in her feet out.

"Let me see what I can do about your arm," Cristo offered, kneeling down beside the princess. Too weak to reply, she merely nodded. The bodyguard gently lifted her arm, causing her to slightly wince. After a moment of studying, he smiled. "It's only dislocated," he said. "I can fix it quickly, but it'll be painful."

"I've gone through enough pain tonight, Cristo," Alena replied cynically. "A little more won't make much difference."

The bodyguard nodded. "On three, then. One, two… three!" At that, he violently jerked her arm, a sickening _snap_ echoing in the night. Alena so much wanted to scream out her agony, but was wise enough to know it would give their position away. All she could do was clench her teeth and let her tears spill out through tight eyelids. "Are you all right?" he asked, eyeing her intently.

She weakly nodded, her eyes still tightly shut as a few whimpers escaped her lips. He cast some of his curative magic on her arm, easing the numb pain that persisted. Her suffering subsided, but Alena still felt the need to lightly cry, if anything to let her unpleasant emotions run free.

A rustle from the bushes quickly brought everyone's attention to action, their weapons ready for confrontation. Everyone, that is, except Cristo. "It's nothing," he distantly remarked, standing up from the princess. No one believed him, though, and kept their weapons ready, expecting a score of orcs to suddenly burst through the bushes.

A rabbit hopped out, quickly disappearing into the forest again.

"I told you," Cristo smiled knowingly. His companions stared at him in disbelief, but the bodyguard merely shrugged.

It was silent for a moment before Brey firmly stamped his walking staff into the ground. It did not create much sound in the soft grass, but it drew Cristo's attention. "That's about it!" the old tutor said angrily. "I've _had_ it with this, Cristo. Now you had better start explaining yourself, or else…"

The bodyguard looked curiously at his companion. "What do you mean?"

"Shut up with that, will you?" Brey shot, careful not to raise his voice too much. "We've tolerated it so far but I believe I speak for everyone when I say our patience is wearing thin. Ever since that night at Frenor's inn, you've been acting strangely. First that _damned_ pensive behaviour, then burying your nose in the Texts for no reason at all. And tonight, not only can you tell us when orcs are about to appear, but you go and cast some magic that I've never heard or _seen_ before!"

"It's Zenithian clerical magic," Cristo calmly replied, his eyes low. "Surely anyone whose read the Texts was read of such a spell. 'Surround' is just seldom used in this day in age, as no one has had any real need to learn it."

Brey frowned. "Yes, I _have_ read of the spell," he said, his voice more calm, "but it could only be learned by high ranking priests and paladins." He paused, his eyes narrowing dangerously on the bodyguard. "You're only an apprentice cleric, Cristo. You should not be able to use such magic."

The bodyguard merely shrugged. However, before Brey could lash out at him for shrugging, Cristo replied, "I don't know how to explain it. I… just knew how to cast that spell at that moment."

Brey's face became red with fury. Cristo had given an answer, but it was not a satisfying one. "Then what about…" he began, but was instantly cut off as the bodyguard held up a hand.

"Quick! Hide!"

The travellers did so, having faith in Cristo's strange sixth sense when it came to orcs. No sooner had they ducked underneath the bushes than five orcs entered the area, strange shrieks and gurgles coming from their mouths as they studied the three corpses of their comrades. One seemed to give out some orders and two of the monsters grabbed their fallen kin, dragging them away. The remaining three began to thoroughly search the surrounding bushes. It would only be a matter of time before they stumbled upon the travellers' whereabouts.

"That!" Brey whispered to the bodyguard, despite their situation. "How did you know they were coming?"

"I don't know," Cristo whispered back. "I just did."

Growling, the old tutor shook his head, a spell coming to mind. He looked to Alena and Timothy, who were prepared to strike as soon as their companions were. The princess felt somewhat better after Cristo's healing and the mild cry she had. The whip firmly in her right hand, she was eager to kill a few orcs to make up for her ruined night.

Seeing Cristo was prepared as well, Brey cast 'Sap' on the furthest orc. The monster's skin began to shrivel, causing it to gurgle in panic. Its companions stopped their searching, turning to see what the matter was. That was all the distraction the travellers needed as they leaped from the bush. Timothy grabbed the closest orc, slitting an ear to ear gash across the monster's throat. The second orc spun back around in time to see Cristo's copper sword plunge into its chest. Alena lashed out her whip, grabbing the disorientated orc by the waist. Yanking on her weapon, the princess brought the monster close enough so she could get a grip on its neck. She snapped it easily, the orc's skin offering no resistance in its loosened state. She would have preferred a more agonizing death for her victim, but the princess knew they did not have time to waste. Still, she managed to throw in a swift kick to the dead monster's head, a cruel grin on her lips.

The moment Brey emerged from the bushes, Timothy turned to his companions and said, "We'd better get a move on. If more orcs come here and find three more of their kin dead in the same spot…"

"You don't need to lecture us, Tim," Brey gruffly interrupted. The old tutor turned to the bodyguard. "You take the lead, Cristo. Your power has helped us so far tonight so we may as well use it to its full extent." The bodyguard nodded and he led his companions into the forest.

The stars began to fade, their faint glimmer no longer able to outshine the slowly raising sun. Long clouds hanging in the sky were tinted red on their eastern side, a grim reminder to the bodyguard of how their surroundings could very well have ended during the night.

* * *

Cristo yawned, stretching his arms to their fullest length. His watch was almost over, and he severely needed some rest. Although he did not show it, casting 'Surround' had taken its toll on not only his magical prowess but his physical prowess as well. He knew it was a gamble to try the spell. Indeed, he had not even known if he would be able to cast it, as Brey was quite correct when only the highest-ranking priests could learn of the intricate spell.

Still, it had worked, and its success had given the bodyguard much to think about. During his watch, Cristo had sifted through his Texts in search of any passing reference of such a spell. While it did mention it a few times in early portions of his Texts, there were no details of the intricacies of 'Surround.' Therefore, he could not have memorized it from there. The larger version of the Texts he had read in Frenor's temple may have contained some details but he had not been consciously looking for it. The bodyguard could not think of any point in his life he had actually seen or read how to cast the spell, yet, somehow, he had.

The very fact he even _had_ the ability to cast it raised many questions for him as well. Did it mean he had the potential to reach priesthood even at this early stage as a Zenithian cleric? Or did every cleric have the ability to cast such a spell, just not enough knowledge to learn it?

Cristo did not wish to ponder this much further, however. If he had the ability to cast 'Surround', so be it. It was a useful spell so far and probably would prove to be useful again if they stumbled upon another band of orcs. Useful, that is, so long as he was properly rested.

The bodyguard turned to Timothy, whom had volunteered to take the watch after him. He noticed Alena was snuggled closely to the thief, her hand tightly clenched in his. Cristo stared at the peaceful scene for a moment, feeling sort of empty as he did. He could tell some sort of emotion was missing but was unable to place it. Fatigue was a stronger factor than thought at that moment, though, so Cristo did not think much more of it as he bent forward to wake Timothy.

* * *

"We have to make a decision right here and right now," Brey firmly stated, leaning against one of the many trees surrounding the travellers. "Do we continue, or do we go back."

"I'm definitely going to continue," Timothy adamantly said, crossing his arms across his chest. "At this point in my life, I feel I have nothing much to lose."

"I'm going as well," Alena said, stepping up to the thief as she wrapped her arm around his. "We've come so far and I'm not ready to give up just yet." Timothy looked at the princess, a silent "thank you" forming on his smile.

After a moment of silence, Cristo replied, "I'll go with Tim and Alena. They will probably need my help in case the orcs return."

Brey looked at his companions for a moment, then let out a heavy sigh. Once again, their adventurous spirit and loyalty outnumbered his rational thought. The old tutor was beginning to wonder if he could ever re-capture that spirit at his age.

"Very well," he said at length. "We will continue on this mad quest. However, I hope you all realize our current situation. We are without a map, without suitable supplies to last more than a day or two, and deep in the territory of orcs. While we seemed to have lost them for now, we cannot be sure how long we can wander through these woods before we stumble across another band." His companions all nodded, apparently accepting their predicament nonchalantly.

"Another thing we have to still worry about is actually finding this cave the golden bracelet is hidden in," the old tutor added. He turned to Timothy. "Do you have any idea where it could be right now?"

The thief sighed, rubbing the back of his head. "We wandered quite a distance from that tiny trail, didn't we," he muttered. "I'm afraid I can't be certain without any maps or landmarks, but I'm pretty sure we ran more or less north-west from our camp last night. The path we were walking on was going in a south-west direction, so if we walk south from here, with any luck we will stumble across something man-made, perhaps a definite path or even the cave itself."

Satisfied with the thief's reasoning, the travellers quickly were on their way again, Cristo leading the way with Timothy giving directions. Despite the orcs' eventual abandonment of searching for them the previous night, none of them knew enough about orc culture to ascertain whether it was due to fatigue, feeling they had ransacked enough of their possessions, or just plain given up. Whatever the case, though, the travellers felt it prudent to have Cristo at the front, hopefully his sixth sense warning them of any possible confrontation.

With Cristo and Timothy busy in the lead, Brey had the opportunity to have an uninterrupted conversation with the princess about a few things plaguing his mind. "Alena…?" he began tentatively. He was still uncertain about her feelings toward him, given the previous night's events.

"Yes?" she replied mechanically.

The old tutor rolled his tongue into his cheek, nervousness creeping up on him. The last thing he wanted was her to be forever bitter at him. Should he discover that to be the case, Brey did not know how he could handle having someone he treated as family hating him. "About last night," he said carefully.

"What about last night?" Alena asked, her voice distant.

"I'm… sorry if I upset you in any way."

The princess sighed, looking away for a moment. "Don't worry too much about it, Brey," she said at length. "It wasn't completely your fault that I shot at you like that."

The old tutor raised an eyebrow curiously. "How so?"

Alena turned to face him, her eyes dreamy. "Brey," she smiled, "it was so perfect, last night. Before the orcs showed up, everything was perfect. Me, Tim, under the stars by the pool before it became soaked in blood. It was just so… perfect."

She sighed again, looking down. "Once my night had been ruined, I guess I became a bit upset." She paused, a light giggle escaping her lips. "You know how I get when I become… upset."

"Indeed," Brey chuckled.

"I wasn't really angry with you," Alena continued, "but at the night in general, especially the orcs." She paused, a solemn look on her face. "I think it should be me apologizing for my actions, not you."

"You did what anyone would have done in your position, Alena," Brey stated reassuringly. "It is human nature to lash out at the closest thing possible when their emotions are afire."

"Still," the princess said, "It was inexcusable, and I'm sorry."

Brey could not help but smile. In the past, Alena would never take responsibility for her actions, assuming the problem at hand was solely the other person's fault. Arrogance was clearly a sign of adolescence, and the Princess was on the verge of womanhood. Such traits needed to be removed if she was ever to become a worthy successor to her father's throne, much less a bearable presence at any social gathering. Alena taking responsibility for her actions was a large step in her developing maturity.

Her face suddenly grew dark, though. "You really didn't have to kill Tim's brahmird, did you?"

The old tutor sighed. "Truly, I'm sorry you had to see that. I just didn't see any other way of dealing with the situation. If it hadn't been me, the orcs probably would have mercilessly butchered the poor beast on the spot. At least my way was a quick death. If it felt any pain at all, it would have been over instantly." He paused for a moment, judging Alena's reaction. While she did not appear appalled, neither did she appear inclined to forgive his actions so easily.

"Alena," he continued, "I'm afraid you're going to have to accept this is the way some things are. I realize you were brought up in a sheltered life but surely you've seen more than enough on this journey that there's-"

The old tutor was interrupted by a shout from Timothy. "Alena! James! Over here! We've found it!"

"What?" they both exclaimed and they hurried forward.

Only now did they realize Cristo and Timothy had put them back on a thin trail covered with thick, tall grasses and shrubs. It eventually led to the face of a small cliff, virtually invisible until they were right in front of it due to the thick amount of foliage covering its mossy surface.

Once Alena and Brey caught up with their companions, Timothy was broadly smiling, and even Cristo was beaming as well. "The Master must be with us today," the bodyguard said as he cleared a tangled mess of vines and shrubs.

The mouth of a deep cave opened before them, the edges of its entrance intricately sculpted with various, tiny dragons, most of which were severely eroded with time. At the mouth of the entrance stood two wooden stakes, an orc skull plunged upside-down on each.


	11. Chapter 10: Into The Cave

Chapter 10: Into The Cave

Cristo emerged from the cave, a few cobwebs sticking to his clothes, but otherwise fine. His companions were relieved to find he had come out in one piece. Although he had only been gone five minutes, such an amount of time would be more than enough for orcs to take down the bodyguard. And, with such an ominous sign at the mouth of the cave, none of the travellers knew what could be dwelling inside.

"Well?" Timothy anxiously asked.

"It is very deep," Cristo replied, wiping the last of the cobwebs from his clothes. "I didn't go very far, though, as it was too dark."

"And what of orcs?" the thief asked.

"I didn't sense them inside," the bodyguard said, his voice trailing off a little at the end of his sentence. His companions stared at him for a moment, expecting him to add something. However, Cristo said nothing more, taking the opportunity to eat some of their bread as he leaned against the mossy surface of the cliff.

Brey rubbed his white whiskers for a moment. "I suspected as much," he mused, eventually gazing up at his companions. "These two stakes are many years old, which probably means the orcs put them here, and never returned to maintain it."

"Do you have any idea what they mean?" Alena asked.

"I can't be certain," the old tutor replied, "as I don't know enough of orc culture to recognize their signs. However, my guess is these were put here as a warning."

"A warning?" Timothy said, his eyes a little wide with concern. "A warning of what?"

"Probably to stay away from this cave. And if that is the case, then something must have resided inside that scared the orcs away." He turned to the mouth of the cave, rubbing his white whiskers. "The question we _really_ ought to be asking is whether whatever scared the orcs away is still down there."

"I doubt it," Timothy said, shaking his head. "These things were put here probably a few hundred years ago. If something was living down there when the orcs explored the cave, it would have died a long time ago."

"It hasn't," Cristo quietly said.

Timothy instantly spun to face the bodyguard, irritation in his eyes. "That's impossible!" he said, perturbed.

Cristo merely shrugged. "All I know is I felt something different than orcs inside, and the deeper I went, the stronger it became."

"Alright, then," Alena said finally, the anticipation of exploring taking a strong hold of her. She strode to the mouth of the cave, her hand already on the whip at her hip. "If this is the right cave, let's get moving."

"Now hold on, Alena," Brey said, holding a hand up. "We shouldn't go running steadfastly in there. Remember, there's something of an evil nature down there and we have no idea what it is."

"You're such a worry-wart," she scoffed. "So there's something living down there. It couldn't be any worse than orcs, now can it? Okay, _maybe_ something worse than orcs _once_ lived in there but there can't be any way it has lived for a hundred years. It's probably nothing more than trogs who got lost inside."

The old tutor frowned. He did not like the concept of going into the cave as they were, their only information about what lurked inside being a feeling Cristo had. He did not like their situation, miles from any sign of civilization, their supplies dangerously low, and orcs surrounding them on all angles.

Most of all, though, he did not like the fact he was going to lose this argument with Alena. Seeing Timothy's approving nod and Cristo's annoying shrug, Brey could see he would have no support for his side. The old tutor shook his head, wondering exactly when it was the princess could best him in a battle of logic.

"Fine," he finally grumbled. "So I'm being a worry-wart. One of us has to be smart enough to take precautions. That's merely what I'm trying to do. The last thing I want is one of us coming out of there a bloody corpse because we were too bull-headed to think ahead."

"Do what you must," Timothy intoned, grabbing some branches. He took two, wrapping them in torn portions of his shirt. Using his flintlock, he lighted them up in seconds and handed one to the princess. The thief turned to Brey and said, "Alena and I are going in. This is something we have to do for the sake of our country, danger or no danger." At that, the pair brushed aside the few branches still covering the entrance and disappeared hand in hand into the cave, their torches' light quickly fading away.

Cristo and Brey held an uneasy silence for a moment, each judging what the other was going to do. Eventually, the bodyguard turned on his heels and followed Alena and Timothy into the cave, leaving the old tutor outside by himself.

Brey stood at the mouth of the cave for long moments, contemplating what his course of action should be. Every intuitive, logical, and gut feeling inside told him not to proceed - to do so was foolhardy and a waste of time. Yet, he still found himself chasing after his companions, hoping not to lose them in whatever twists and turns the cave held. After all, the last thing the old tutor wanted was to face a band of orcs outside by himself.

* * *

The cave had definitely seen the influence of people in the past, although it had been difficult for their work to withstand the erosion of time. Most of the walls were still brick-faced, suggesting those who had discovered the cavern had put great amount of effort into making the place easily accessible should anyone have reason to return. Whatever the golden bracelet is, it must be something truly special for the peasants of Frenor to invest so much time and detail into hiding it.

Alena and Timothy led the way through the cave, their eagerness and excitement beaming almost as brightly as the torches they carried; they looked as though they were meant to explore the world together. Behind them was Cristo, following obediently like a dog to its master. Lagging behind a bit was Brey, his older age unable to keep up with his younger, exuberant companions.

The tunnel continued to twist and turn, leading them deeper into the bowels of the cave. For the most part, it remained consistent. Cobwebs were strewn across their path like silk curtains, a positive sign that nothing large had come through here for some time. Bugs of various sorts skittered away from their torchlight, hiding in tiny nooks and holes along the walls.

At one point, a large, brown spider fell onto Alena's head, causing her to instinctively gasp in shock as she swatted at her head to be rid of the pest. It was a silly display, as the spider had already fallen off her by the time she reacted, and Alena flushed redder than her own hair. Any embarrassment she had was quickly gone, however, once Timothy dealt with her "assailant" by kicking it away into the darkness. His "bravery" was rewarded with an affectionate hug and a quick peck on his cheek, causing the thief to blush in the presence of Cristo and Brey. However, his companions did not seem to mind the display, although the old tutor did roll his eyes.

After perhaps fifteen minutes of walking, the tunnel suddenly opened into a large chamber. The travelers could not help but gaze in amazement from the sheer size of the room. Standing at the entrance to the chamber, none could see any of the other areas the room contained.

"By the Master!" Alena breathed, her voice followed by a light echo. "All this can't be natural, can it?"

"It's possible," Brey said, breathing lightly as he finally caught up with his stunned companions, "but the peasants probably did most of the work here. It looks like this room was meant to be a main chamber." He looked over to Timothy. "For ceremonies, perhaps?"

"Perhaps," the thief slowly mumbled. He walked forward, gazing intently ahead as he raised his torch so its light could maybe fill more of the large chamber.

"What is it?" Alena asked, walking forward as well.

The thief stopped and pointed forward. "Now _that_ is definitely man-made."

Standing almost dead centre in the enormous room rested a large, rectangle platform with four large pillars towering over each of its corners. A pair of stairs climbed the left side of the platform, most of which were crumbling with age. However, at their distance, the torches could not penetrate the darkness enough to reveal what lay at the top of those stairs and between the four pillars. Everyone had a guess, though.

"We found it!" Alena exclaimed. The princess instantly rushed forward, her torch leaving a streaking trail in her wake as she eagerly ran towards the platform.

"Alena! Wait!" Timothy cried, reaching out a hand. She was quickly out of reach, however, and the thief silently curse underneath his breath. While thieving was his main occupation, he had done some treasure hunting in the as well. One thing he learned from his experiences as a treasure hunter was an obvious place for a treasure was also an obvious place for a trap. Timothy was not sure whether the peasants of Frenor were smart enough to employ such a tactic but, given the amount of detail they put into building the cave, rushing to a treasure was not the best of ideas.

The thief took a few steps in pursuit before he suddenly stopped, noticing something about the ground in the large chamber. It was unusually soft, squishing beneath his boots. His first suspicion was mud but hearing no running water within the chamber eliminated that possibility. Curious, Timothy lightly touched the ground, taking up a small bit of the surface with his fingertips. Upon smelling the substance, he noticed it had a putrid scent and he involuntarily recoiled with disgust.

"James," he called out as he walked to the entrance, "can you tell me what this is? It smells sort of familiar, but…"

Brey studied the substance under the dim torchlight, having no need to smell it to recognize it. "Guano?" he said, rubbing his white whiskers.

Alena _did_ notice the ground's soft texture, especially since it squished between her naked toes. However, given her lack of knowledge of cave environments and her excitement at seeing the platform, she merely dismissed the guano-covered ground as mud.

She sprinted up the stairs, her adrenaline ignoring the sharper outcroppings of the stone biting into her skin. Once she reached the top of the platform, a single chest came into view, sitting directly at the centre of the four pillars. The chest glistened under her torchlight as varied jewels encrusted into its hinges danced and sparkled brilliantly the closer she advanced. However, Alena was not so much entranced by the sparkling beauty of the chest as by what sort of secrets it contained.

Her hands shaking with anticipation, Alena lifted the lid of the chest, thinking nothing of the peculiarity of no lock to secure whatever treasure was hidden inside. Groaning on aged hinges, a musty smell escaped with trapped air as the princess peered inside.

Save a few dead insects, the chest was empty.

"Alena!" she heard Timothy's voice call out to her. "Get down from there!"

"Why?" the princess asked, her voice disappointed. They had come all this way, suffered so much, and someone else had beaten them to the bracelet. "There's nothing here except an empty chest." Frustrated, she kicked the lid; the chest slammed shut with a resounding echo throughout the chamber.

Alena nearly gave the chest another kick to vent her frustration when she heard a rustling from above. Curious, she raised her torch high above her to see what was causing the sound. She let out a startled gasp once she saw the ceiling moving in an oozing manner. "What on…?" she mouthed, mesmerized by the sight.

"Alena!" Timothy's voice called again. "Get down! Hurry!" The thief was now running towards the platform. She stared dumbfounded, however, transfixed on the ceiling as she tried to ascertain what was moving.

Suddenly, several squeaking noises wailed throughout the chamber as the form on the ceiling burst into movement. It seemed as though a long, black arm extended from the main body, reaching out to engulf the princess within. Alena could do nothing more than drop her torch, futilely covering her body as several bats the size of her head descended upon her. The aggressive animals nipped and scratched at the princess, intent on eliminating the intruder for bringing her blinding light so close to their home.

Alena tried to run away, but the bats swarmed all about her, making escape nearly impossible. She fell to the ground, curling herself into a ball and hoping her companions could do something before the bats beat her to death.

Luckily, Timothy arrived on top of the platform, yelling and screaming as he flung his torch wildly in an attempt to scare off Alena's attackers. The bats split up for a moment, allowing the thief to reach her before any serious damage was done. "Hurry!" he commanded, lifting the princess up. "Grab the torch and keep it in front of you!"

Alena hastily did as told, too shaken to apologize for her foolishness. She and Timothy stood back to back, waving their torches to keep the enraged bats away. However, there were dozens of the flying animals and it would only be a matter of time before the torches' light enraged them enough to swarm the couple.

Timothy was fortunate enough to find an escape route, though. "Down there!" he shouted above the incessant squeaking of bats. Alena's gaze followed his pointed fingertip to a hole in the chamber's wall. "Can you make it?"

"Only one way to find out!" Alena replied. She quickly darted to the edge of the platform, jumping off and slipping as she landed. Cursing as she pushed the pain in her rear aside, the princess scrambled to her feet and sprinted for the hole. Thanking the Master it was large enough for her to fit inside, Alena stepped in, instantly spinning around to ward off any bats that may have followed.

She very nearly burned Timothy's face off as the thief caught up with her. "Whoa!" he gasped. "Watch out!"

"I'm sorry," Alena said guiltily, immediately bringing her torch back.

"Just be careful," he said, ducking into the hole as well. The bats continued to swarm just outside but, with the torches firmly in place at the entrance, none were daring enough to attack… yet. "Aggressive little buggers, aren't they," Timothy chuckled as he marveled at their continued persistence.

Alena did not join in his amusement, though, as her guilt could not allow her to laugh right now. "Tim," she mumbled, looking down shamefully, "I'm sorry I screwed up. I shouldn't have rushed up there like I did."

"Damned right you shouldn't!" the thief scolded, his eyes cross at her. "One thing you should always know about treasure hunting is that traps could be anywhere, ready to punish you if you rush. It was very stupid what you did! We're damned lucky the only thing we had to worry about was bats and… and…"

His voice faltered upon seeing the princess' shoulders slightly bob up and down as tiny whimpers escaped her. "Alena?" he said, reaching down to take her chin in his hand. Gently lifting her head, Timothy saw a few streaks lining her dirty face. Sighing, he took his shirt and lightly wiped her face. "I'm sorry," he sincerely apologized. "I wasn't thinking. This must all be very exciting for you, hunting for lost treasures and all. What you did was natural."

Alena could only smile, sniffling back the remnants of her tears. She leaned over and wrapped her arms around the thief, mumbling, "Thank you." Timothy held a stunned silence for a moment but smiled back, placing his hand on her shoulder as they waited out the frenzied bats.

* * *

"It looks really deep," Timothy said to his companions, crawling out from the hole in the wall. After dusting himself off, he added, "It looks like it could be another tunnel."

"But is it man-made?" Brey asked intently.

"This part isn't," the thief replied, "but that isn't necessarily saying we shouldn't take this tunnel."

"What?" the old tutor nearly shouted. He caught himself though, remembering the enraged bats were still hanging above their heads. While they eventually settled down and flew back onto their perches in the ceiling, any amount of loud noise could easily disturb them again. He and Cristo had been relatively safe at the entrance to the large chamber during their initial attack, the bats' main target being the torches and not they; he had no desire to have the aggressive animals come after him for any reason.

"What I mean," Timothy explained, "is this tunnel could have easily been here before this cave was built. The peasants probably explored it and found a whole other section to dig out." He turned to Cristo. "Cris, you said the evil presence you felt wasn't the bats above us, right?" The bodyguard nodded. "Then it would have to be located elsewhere in the cave, right?" he finished, turning back to Brey.

The old tutor snorted. _Another victory for him_, he thought bitterly.

"So," Alena said, looking more in Brey's direction. "Are we in agreement?" Upon everyone's nod, the princess grabbed her torch and hopped into the hole. "Follow me, then."

While the travelers could make their way through by slouching for a while, the tunnel quickly became smaller, forcing them on their hands and knees. Such travelling was not comfortable, though. While the thick cobwebs blocking their path could easily be dismissed as an annoyance, the tunnel's surface was downright uncomfortable. Without the assistance of erosion or man's interference, the rocky texture of the surface was still intact; sharp outcroppings scrapped along their hands and knees and, at times, some parts became almost impassable, the gap between the floor and ceiling only a foot high.

The small tunnel continued for quite a while and Alena's patience was wearing thin. Becoming somewhat disgruntled, she turned behind her, asking, "How much longer do we have to crawl through here?" She felt stupid asking such a question; her companions could not possibly know the answer. Still, perhaps one of them knew something about cave exploration she did not, some sort of trick in judging tunnel distances or chamber whereabouts.

"We'll get there when we get there," Timothy simply replied, his expression almost identical to Alena's. He must be having the same sentiments about their constant crawling, not really a good sign since the thief should have the most experience in such activities.

Sighing, she turned around to continue on her way, coming face to face with a half-broken skull. The princess yelped in shock, instinctively scrambling backward.

"What's wrong?" Timothy asked upon seeing her shocked face. Alena pointed, causing the thief to suck in his breath. "Poor bugger," he muttered, shaking his head. After a quick study of the area, he noticed a piece of rock on one side of the tunnel and a few bones strewn about on the other side of the tunnel. "Looks like half his body was crushed in a cave in," he finally said.

Alena slightly shuddered. A grisly scene of someone's death as their head was split in half by a falling rock came to mind. Not the most pleasant of thoughts while deep inside a cave.

"Did you scream?" Brey's voice came from a little further back in the tunnel. His voice sounded weary, as though he had taken in more scrapes and bruises than his body could handle.

"It's nothing," Timothy called back. "Alena just found some parts of a skeleton, that's all." A muffled "oh" echoed off the tunnel's wall, as though Brey dismissed the princess' discovery as nothing more significant than finding more rock.

The thief turned to Alena. "I think I'd better take the lead," he suggested. "There could be more loose rock in this tunnel and I think I'd be able to spot it better than you." The princess was more than happy to comply with his suggestion. The last thing she wanted was their whole party to be crushed underneath tons of rock due to her inexperience with cave exploration.

With Timothy in the lead, the travelers seemed to cover more ground in less time. Eventually, they came out of the tunnel and entered a small chamber. Taking the opportunity to rest, Brey turned to Cristo and asked, "How's that evil presence?"

"Stronger," the bodyguard replied, looking around the chamber as he tried to determine exactly where it was coming from. "The deeper we go, the stronger it becomes."

"That does not necessarily mean it will be wherever the bracelet is," Timothy quickly added, hoping to quench whatever fear Cristo's warning may have placed on the travelers. "For all we know, it could be in an entirely different chamber."

The thief turned toward a new tunnel at the opposite end of the chamber. This one was much larger, easy enough for the travelers to walk through. "Let's get moving," he ordered as he started to make his way down the new tunnel. Alena skipped forward to join him, Cristo and Brey following diligently behind.

For the most part, the rest of the cave was easily traversed. The most difficult portion was a thin tunnel, forcing the travelers to uncomfortably squeeze through. It was not the deepness of the cave that began to impede on their worries, though. Since their torches were crudely constructed of branches and cloth, their light was beginning to die. Unless they found the bracelet within the next half-hour, they would be forced to head back.

Soon, they came to another large chamber. Dripping water could be heard from some area, echoing eerily off unseen walls. Timothy stepped in first, intently studying the ceiling to make sure there were no more of the hostile bats. He doubted they would travel this deep inside but he did not wish to overlook anything that may turn hazardous. He noticed the ground was squishy like the large chamber above. Kneeling down, the thief sniffed the substance on the ground. After letting out a mild sigh of relief upon discovering it was only mud, he called for his companions to follow.

Spreading out so they could search the chamber more easily, Brey was the first to discover a few skeletons scattered about the floor. He also noticed a horn was jutting from most of the skulls. "So they _did_ make it this far," he muttered to himself, studying the bones. However, something did not seem right. Why were these skeletons laying in the middle of the floor, with no sign of conflict or a cave-in to account for their deaths? It seemed as though the orcs had fallen over and just died.

As he stood up from the skeletons, the old tutor also noticed something more just beyond but, without a torch, his beady eyes could not pierce the thick blackness. "Hey!" he called out, his voice echoing. "Over here." Once his companions brought more light, Brey's eyes widened with surprise. "By the Master…" he uttered.

The ground in front of the travelers was covered with orc skeletons, as though an entire tribe once resided here and was slaughtered. At the far end of the floor was another tunnel, the skeletons forming a bony road to follow inside.


	12. Chapter 11: Blood And Gold

Chapter 11: Blood And Gold

"There," Cristo said, pointing at the darkness inside the tunnel. "I can feel the evil emanating from there."

"Then we obviously shouldn't go there," Brey muttered, although he had a feeling his suggestion would go unheeded.

As if to prove his thoughts, Timothy stepped forward, a few orc bones crunching under his boots. "We haven't found anything to suggest any other tunnels the bracelet might be in," he said, his eyes wide with anticipation to discover what may be lurking inside. "We only have this path to follow."

"Makes sense to me," Alena smiled, taking light steps forward to avoid cutting her naked feet on broken bones. It was difficult to maintain her balance, though, so Timothy leant a helping hand to the princess.

She turned around to face Cristo. "Are you coming, Cris?" she asked. The bodyguard seemed to be staring at the tunnel, lost in deep thought. "Cristo?" she repeated, raising an eyebrow curiously.

"We shouldn't be going in there," he said mechanically, causing Brey's eyes to widen with surprise that the bodyguard would agree with him.

"Why not?" Timothy asked cynically, "…and it had better be a different reason beside the evil presence." The bodyguard remained silent, however, as though he could not think of any reason. "Very well, then," the thief said, turning on his heels to proceed. He found himself lightly pulling Alena along, the princess still waiting for her friends to follow.

Cristo remained still for several moments. Something inside was warning him not to go further, that to do so could result in dire consequences. However, a stronger emotion called loyalty urged him forth, and the bodyguard found himself making his way across the path of orc skeletons. Since Cristo had the second torch with him, Brey had no choice but to follow as well, having no desire to remain in the dark by himself.

While the sound of crunching bones echoing off the tunnel's dark walls gave an uncomfortable ambience, the travelers did not have to go far before the orc skeletons began to dwindle, fading off into a small room. An altar rested in the centre of the room, faded symbols carved into its surface. Lying underneath a thick blanket of dust rested a single jewel: a bracelet made seemingly out of pure gold.

"Is that… it?" Alena asked, her heart racing with anticipation. She so much wanted to rush forward and grab the bracelet but, remembering her actions in the chamber above, she was smart enough to keep her eagerness in check.

Timothy did not respond. He scanned the room for any signs of traps or creatures. Satisfied he would not be in any immediate danger should he enter, the thief stepped forward. "Tim!" Alena whispered, afraid her voice could inadvertently set off a trap or alert the evil Cristo was feeling to their presence. He did not respond, however, seemingly entranced by the bracelet before them. He stood in front of the altar for a moment, studying its craftsmanship to determine if any traps were placed on it.

He did not focus much on the altar, though. His attention was almost immediately drawn to the bracelet. Even decades of dust and neglect could not diminish the jewel's beauty. Intricate designs and runes ran its length, having no apparent pattern aside to be decorative. The ornament on the bracelet's head was unlike anything the thief had ever seen. Shaped like a diamond, it was placed length-wise along the wristband. Three spikes jutted from one end of the diamond, seemingly giving the ornament a crown of horns. At the centre of the diamond was another jewel, imbedded so deep the thief could hardly see it underneath the dust.

Timothy reached forward, cupping the bracelet in two hands. Blowing the dust off, he found it was more radiant than he could have ever imagined in torchlight. However, whereas the gold in the bracelet shone brilliantly, the jewel in the centre of the ornament was blacker than the shadows surrounding him. At first he thought it was obsidian or onyx but those minerals usually glittered in light. This jewel seemed to suck in the light, like the infinite blackness of a moonless night sky.

"Tim?" Alena's distant voice came. The thief blinked, as though coming out of a trance. He turned around, surprised the princess was standing behind him. Her voice had seemed so distant he had thought she was standing at the other end of the tunnel.

"I'm… all right," he said at length.

He extended his hand, allowing Alena to look at the bracelet. "This… has to be it," he smiled. "It's more beautiful than I thought, isn't it."

The princess found herself gazing intimately at the jewel. She had seen many priceless ornaments before, some even more exquisite than the one in Timothy's hands. Yet, she found herself wholly agreeing with the thief. Never before had she seen anything more wondrous.

The two of them stood very still for a while, their gaze solely on the bracelet. They could very easily remain in such a state for several hours, maybe even days, had Cristo not suddenly burst in the room, shouting their names.

"Cris," Alena uttered as she turned to face her bodyguard, her eyes dreamy. "We found it! Look at-"

Cristo did not even look at the bracelet, though. His eyes were wide with horror as he scanned the room. "We have to get out of here!" he said in a panic. "There's evil all around us!"

"What?" Timothy cried incredulously. He looked around as well but found nothing more than he first saw. "Where? There's nothing here except…" His voice trailed off as he started to stare at the ground.

"What is it?" Alena asked, looking down as well. She let out a muffled gasp as what she saw startled her.

The ground beneath her feet seemed to be moving, shifting up and down as though something was sliding underneath it. She and Timothy had been so transfixed by the bracelet that they had not noticed until Cristo burst in. They did not have to look at the ground long, though, to realize whatever was moving underneath could not be good. And, given Cristo's warning, the two of them quickly darted out of the room.

No sooner had they run out than the floor in the altar room seemed to open with razor teeth snapping vehemently at musty air. The teeth grew out of the ground, followed by purple, crested heads and six-foot long, snake-like bodies covered in green scales. The travelers knew they had only one option against such creatures: run, and do not look back!

The sound of slithering scales and snapping jaws spurred them forward, the vipers' presence nipping on their heels. None dared to look back, fearful a row of sharp teeth would be in front of their faces the moment they turned, waiting to tear the flesh from their faces at the first opportunity.

Brey soon appeared, his torch anxiously flickering as he waited by the tunnel's entrance. He had not known why Cristo had suddenly darted away from him but, seeing his companions' panicked return, he had a good guess. The temptation to point out he had been right all along was strong, but he knew this was no time for snide remarks. There would be plenty of time for that after, so long as they all survived.

The travelers made it out of the tunnel but the numerous orc bones littering the floor severely impeded their escape. The pursuing vipers did not seem to be hindered, however. Having the most difficulty navigating across the bony path was Timothy and one of the vipers managed to nip his heel. There would be no more than a tiny scratch from the minor injury, but there was enough force to send the thief off balance and reeling into a pile of bones. Terror filled his mind as he fell, knowing full well the vipers would be upon him before he even hit the ground. All he could think of doing was screaming in fear.

Luckily, Brey was nearly beside the thief at that moment, and was quick to react to the situation. Stopping in his tracks, the old tutor spun around, his torch extended. Waving the flame madly, he hoped it would be enough to deter the vipers long enough for Timothy to get back on his feet. One of the large snakes did not seem to mind the flames and darted forward, ready to sink its deadly teeth into the thief's back. Brey jutted the torch forward, catching the lunging viper full in the face. The flames instantly leaped onto the creature, a horrible screech emanating from within as the viper writhed back, thrashing about in agony. Its companions slightly hesitated, seeing one of their kin defeated so easily. Brey could not help but smile at the outcome.

Such a minor action quickly proved unwise.

Alena stopped running the moment she heard Timothy scream in fear, turning in time to see Brey save the thief. The princess was nearly about to let out a sigh of relief when she saw one of the vipers quickly dart behind the old tutor. She instinctively called out his name to warn him but could not see him reacting to the creature in time. Despite her naked feet, Alena had been able to sprint much faster across the broken orc bones than her companions. She was a good twenty feet away now, unable to do anything to help… or could she?

The princess remembered her boomerang, strapped on the opposite hip from her whip. Having neglected the projectile weapon ever since Brey had shown her up with it, Alena had almost forgotten it was there. Perhaps she could hit the viper before it could harm her old tutor. No other alternative coming to mind, she grabbed the boomerang and let it fly.

Time seemed to slow down as she watched. The viper reared up, its head easily towering over the shorter Brey. The old tutor turned, seeing the creature ready to strike. The boomerang sailed through the air, missing its intended target as it flew low…

…Smacking Brey across the face.

"No!" was all Alena could scream as she witnessed the folly of her actions. The old tutor dropped his torch and fell over, the blow stunning him. It was all the viper needed to attack, and easily clamped its massive, sharp teeth on the old tutor's neck and shoulder. He did not even scream in pain, the boomerang's impact more than enough to render him unconscious. Upon smelling fresh blood in the mouth of one of their kin, the rest of the creatures instantly forgot Timothy and slithered toward Brey, eager to get a piece of easier prey.

Fearing his own impending death so much, the thief was more or less oblivious of what occurred. The expected, sharp teeth did not pierce his flesh, and Timothy hesitantly looked up. He realized he was no longer the vipers' target upon seeing a pile of them just beside him, hissing and thrashing violently at each other rather than attacking whatever was underneath. Seeing Alena and Cristo a fair distance away from him, the only person underneath would have to be Brey.

Every instinct within Timothy ordered him to run, to sacrifice the old tutor to save himself. Several good reasons came up, too, but none satisfied the thief. While he would not have any real regrets about leaving him behind, he knew Alena would never forgive him. And he was painfully aware of what it was like to be on the young woman's bad side. Gritting his teeth, Timothy grabbed the dropped torch and thrust it deep into the pile of vipers.

Enraged hissing ensued, many of the fierce creatures instantly retreating from the hot flames. Brey's body was soon revealed, the injuries the thief imagined much less severe. Still, one of the large creatures had its jaws on the old tutor's shoulder, shaking him violently as though wringing the last bits of his life out. Timothy swung the torch close and the viper recoiled. Its hold on Brey remained as strong as ever, though.

Options were running out fast. The main force of vipers were probably already regrouping, their initial shock of the flames subsiding over their drive to sink their teeth into human flesh. He still had his dagger at his hip. Perhaps a stab would drive the viper away from Brey.

He turned to Alena, ready to throw her the golden bracelet so he could free up his right hand. The thief was a little stunned to see the princess on her knees, a look of disbelief on her face. He did not know why she was in such a position, but he did not trust her to catch the precious jewel should he toss it to her. Instead, he turned to Cristo, who just seemed to be waiting for his companions behind Alena. The thief almost wanted to scream at the bodyguard for not rushing forward to help but knew it would be a waste of time. Right now, every second counted.

"Cris!" Timothy called out, heaving the bracelet in the bodyguard's direction as he did. "Catch!"

The moment Timothy was satisfied his throw would make it to Cristo, he withdrew his dagger and stabbed at the viper, aiming for any spot on its long, scaly body. The resounding, shrieking hiss echoed off the chamber's rocky walls, drowning out Cristo's scream of pain as he caught the bracelet.

The viper quickly withdrew, releasing its hold on Brey. Timothy knelt down to check the old tutor while he had the chance. He was unconscious but alive. However, the thief did not know for how long. Blood seeped from the deep wound in his shoulder, soaking his clothes. If it were not looked after quickly, the wound would only get worse, ending the old tutor's life.

Picking Brey up and easing the unconscious tutor on his own shoulder, Timothy hastily made his way backwards, keeping the dying torch between him and the closing vipers. The vipers were slowly circling Timothy, keeping their distance so he could not hurt them with his painful flames, but steadily inching closer to spring forward like a pack of wolves. These were definitely smart animals, much smarter than Timothy could have guessed.

He made it to Alena, who was whimpering with her head buried in her hands. "Alena!" Timothy sharply barked, shaking her shoulder. "What are you doing? Get moving!"

"I…it's _my_ fault…" she cried, shaking her head as she did not even look up. "He's dead because of me!"

Timothy did not understand what the princess was blubbering about, but guessed she was referring to Brey. It did not matter, though, as she needed to get off her knees and out of here before the vipers decided to lunge forward. The thief roughly grabbed her arm and lifted her off the ground. He brought her face to face and looked sternly into her eyes. Alena's face was streaked with tears and seemed as though she bordered on the edge of despair. "He _will_ die unless you help me get out of here!" he said, his voice much harsher than intended.

Alena blinked a few times, then nodded as she pushed her self-pity away for now. Timothy was right. They had to all work together to get out of this mess. "Where's…?" she started to ask, but sucked in her breath as her question was quickly answered. The thief swung his shoulder around, revealing the unconscious form of Brey. She felt another wave of despair swell from deep in her stomach but the princess swallowed it back down, knowing full well Timothy needed her help in supporting the old tutor.

Once Alena had Brey's other shoulder on her own, Timothy quickly scanned the area, asking, "Where's Cris?" He quickly found his answer, the bodyguard closer at the chamber's entrance than before. He also seemed to be clutching his left hand in pain. "Cris," the thief said as he reached the bodyguard. "What happened?" The thief hoped the response would not be a long one as the vipers were still closing in behind, but if there was something else they had to worry about ahead, they needed to know right away.

"The bracelet…" Cristo moaned in agony. "It… burned…"

"_Where's the bracelet_?" Timothy cried out in horror, forgetting his companion's pain. If he had lost it, the thief did not know if he could ever forgive Cristo, perhaps even killing him right there and then if he did not know they would need him later. However, the bodyguard weakly pointed behind his companions. Sure enough, the bracelet was half buried in the mud. "Alena…" the thief said, and the princess instantly retrieved the jewel, placing it firmly in her free hand.

"Let's get out of here," she said. Her conscious companions could not agree more and they ran down the tunnel.

* * *

It had grown overcast, blotting out the once, clear sky. Pieces of blue could be seen in odd spots but, for the most part, a dark, depressing grey permeated. Still, it was more than bright enough to rob the travelers' sight for a few minutes once they finally made it out of the cave.

To say they made it out alive would be an understatement. Escaped with their lives would be a better description, and Brey's survival was still in doubt. Broken and bloody, their escape had not been easy. Although they no longer saw them, Cristo insisted the evil surrounding the vipers was still around them. Once they came to the narrow tunnel they had to crawl through, Timothy decided it would be best to place their dying torches at its entrance, perhaps discouraging any further pursuit. Moving through the narrow tunnel had been difficult the first time but going back, while gently dragging Brey's body, and without the aid of light, made it nearly impossible. Still, they made it out, several cuts and bruises as their reward as well as their lives. Running blindly through the large chamber with the bats, it seemed to take forever to find the tunnel they first came through.

Broken, beaten, bloodied, and tired, none of the travelers felt they had succeeded. Yet, succeeded they did. Still in Alena's trembling hand was the object of their journey: the golden bracelet, shining even in the grey afternoon's dim light.

They all stopped outside the cave's entrance, promptly falling to the ground to rest, although Cristo merely leaned on his knees to catch his breath. Between heaved breaths, Timothy glanced up at the overcast sky, trying to find the hidden sun. "I don't believe it!" he gasped, a loud, swallowing sound coming from the thief as he did.

"What?" Alena muttered, weakly glancing up as well. Although Brey had the most severe injury of the group, at least he was unconscious and did not have to bear with the pain. The various scrapes, bruises, cuts, and all-around soreness on all parts of her body was more than she was ever used to. All she could think about was slipping into unconsciousness as well, perhaps allowing all of her wounds to heal as she became blissfully unaware of the pain in her body.

"We weren't even down there for two hours!" he replied, turning to the princess as he pointed at an obscured source of light behind the clouds.

"What?" Alena said, still breathing heavily. "How can you tell?"

"The sun's hardly moved from its position," he explained. "You can usually get a rough idea…" His voice trailed off, realizing he should not be talking about the sun's position at such a time.

He moved over to Brey. The old tutor was still bleeding, but at least he was also still breathing, however shallow and far apart each breath was. "Alena," he said, his eyes still studying the severity of the wound. The princess crawled over, waiting for the thief to continue. "I need your help. I need you to apply pressure here while I bandage the wound."

At that, Timothy tore off the right sleeve of Brey's shirt, revealing the deadly bite. It looked as though several knives had pierced the old tutor's shoulder and ripped their way out. The injury was by no means the most gruesome sight Alena had seen, but seeing it on one of her most dear friends, and by her own accidental actions no less, made the princess suddenly retch. "Oh, Master…" she weakly mumbled as she slightly backed up.

"Don't go losing it now," Timothy harshly said, grabbing her shoulders and roughly shaking her. He did not care if she suddenly vomited on him there. If that was what it took for her to have a steady mind for this task, so be it. "I need your help," he added vehemently. "_He _needs your help. So just get your hands in there and press down hard!" At that, he firmly grabbed Alena's wrists and thrust them onto Brey's shoulder. The princess instinctively flinched upon her hands touching the bloody skin but did as told, hoping anything she did would help Brey. Timothy bound the wound as best he could, but knew the bandage would only soak through unless proper treatment was immediately attended. The thief turned to the man he knew could do such a thing.

"Cristo," he said, "we need your healing magic. Quick!"

The bodyguard shook his head, a somber tone in his voice. "I can't heal a wound like that," he said.

Fury raised inside Timothy. He could not believe the people he was with right now. All of them seemed to be seasoned adventures, yet in the most perilous situations, they were as inexperienced as the social elite! "Dammit, Cris," the thief angrily shot, "I don't care if you can't or can!" He roughly grabbed the bodyguard's arm and yanked him to Brey's body. "All I want is for you to _try_!" Cristo looked at Timothy for a moment, somewhat stunned.

However, he merely shrugged and lightly pushed Alena aside so he had more room to with. The princess was more than willing to give up her position of applying pressure to the bloody bandage so she could wipe her stained hands on the ground.

Cristo took up a praying stance to focus the will of Zenithism into his being. "Master," he lightly prayed, "I realize what has occurred was not for the best. I sincerely apologize for any sin my companions or I may have committed today, however trivial they may be. I ask forgiveness, and that I may have the power to heal my companion of all his pain." Cristo knew there were higher forms of the spell 'Heal', but the bodyguard had not yet learned them. Only priests and paladins would ever have the ability to cast them. However, since Master Dragon seemed to have granted him the power to cast spells that should normally be beyond his ability, perhaps He would still grant the apprentice cleric the same power.

As the spell was cast, Cristo realized something was wrong. While he had faith the Master would give him the ability to cast a stronger form of 'Heal', the bodyguard still would not have been surprised if it was not granted. However, an even _weaker_ form of 'Heal' than the one he had cast was not expected! The familiar, smoke-like energy did not form at his hands to sink into Brey's skin. Instead, a tiny wisp fell into the wound, and no more.

Cristo stared at his hands for a moment, wondering if he cast the spell correctly. He performed it again, gaining no better results.

Timothy glared at him, thinking the bodyguard was not trying for his own, selfish reasons. "What's the matter?" the thief nearly yelled. "Why aren't you healing him?"

"I… don't know," Cristo quietly replied. Although his voice was calm, his companions could tell he was shaken by the spell's repeated failure. "Perhaps the… evil presence of the vipers is interfering with my clerical magic." Granted, the excuse was not the best, but the bodyguard could not think of any other reason, aside from the Master abandoning him. However, Cristo could not bear the thought of the latter, and making such a claim would not be good for morale. Timothy was not completely convinced, though.

"How can you say that?" the thief exclaimed. "We left those hellish things deep in the cave. There can't be _any_ way they're still around! If they are, why haven't they attacked yet?"

"I honestly don't know," Cristo said again, trying to make a better bandage for Brey as the previous one was already soaking through. "All I know is evil is all about us, the same feeling I had when we were in the cave." He stood up, gently lifting the old tutor on his shoulder. A stretcher would be better but, if the vipers were truly still about, they did not have the time to construct such an apparatus. "We should be moving, and swiftly so we can get him to the temple in Frenor."

Timothy was about to argue further they were in no immediate danger from the horrors of the cave when he felt a light hand touch his shoulder. He spun around, finding Alena's weary eyes meeting his.

"Tim," she lightly said, "I've known Cristo for more than half my life. I've… grown to trust him and, for the most part, his judgment. Please trust him. If for any reason, for me."

Silence hung over the area for a few moments, Timothy and Alena's eyes locked. The princess could tell the thief was somewhat stunned by her statement, seeing as she always supported him in the past. Anxiety began to creep in her body. _Master_, she thought worriedly, _please don't let him be angry with me_.

Eventually, the thief left her gaze, neither a smile nor a frown on his face. He took up a position on Brey's other shoulder, muttering, "Let's get out of here."

The travelers needed no further incentive as they fled from the cave's entrance.


	13. Chapter 12: Death In Twilight

Chapter 12: Death In Twilight

_"…For the last time," Brey scolded, his face red with irritation, "you don't ask why, you just accept it!"_

_ "But why…?"_

_ "_No_!" the tutor snapped, slamming his hands on the study desk. "How many times must I repeat myself? This is just how it is! Accept it, take it for granted, I don't care. But, for the Master's sake, Princess, just _stop_ asking why!_

_ At that, Alena's face began to whimper, a few tears forming in her eyes. He did not have to be so harsh. It was only a simple question. Sure, maybe she _did_ ask it somewhat frequently during these lessons, but he did not have to be so… so… mean!_

_ The young princess noticed an incredible amount of guilt start to grow inside her tutor. While the initial shock of his scolding had passed, Alena decided to take his guilt and run with it. _That_ would teach him not to be so mean._

_ She began to think of as many sad things as possible, increasing her sniffling and tears. Brey began to shift uncomfortably, as though he feared a massive outcry within moments. Good. Let him think that. Perhaps a massive outcry would be in order. It worked with her father and her late mother, so…_

_ Suddenly, several memories of her mother burst into the young princess' mind, all of them much more saddening than anything she could have thought of before._

_ Her tears became genuine._

_ Brey made his way around the desk, uncomfortably rubbing the back of his head. "Princess," he muttered, looking away. "I'm sorry. I…__ didn't mean to…"_

_ "Why!" Alena suddenly cried as she burst into tears. She wrapped her tiny arms around her tutor's waist, taking him by surprise. "Why! Why!"_

_ Brey looked down at the wailing child, utter surprise in his eyes. However, it did not take him too long to realize the Princess was no longer referring to the mathematics question on the desk. Counseling was not his strong suit, though, as he preferred the solitary requirements as a scholar. Nevertheless, he was the Princess' tutor, and, if they were ever going to carry on her studies, he was going to have to teach her one of the hardest lesson in life._

_ Gently unfolding her arms from his waist, Brey knelt before the Princess, cupping the young girl's tiny hands in his. "Princess," he began, "death is a natural part of life. It is going to happen to every single one of us. For some, like my sister, it happens very early in our lives. For some, like your grandparents, it happens when we're very old. And for others, like your mother, it happens during the middle of their lives. The trick is to do as much as possible during your time here so your life has meaning behind it. The more you accomplish, the more you will be remembered by, and your legacy lives on." The tutor stood up, rubbing Alena's bright, auburn hair. "If you lead a full and rich life, then your friends and family will not mourn you as much when you pass away."_

_ Alena gazed up at Brey, a few sniffles remaining from her sorrow. "Did…__ did my Mother lead a full and rich life?"_

_ Brey looked away, a dreamlike visage forming over his face. "The Queen was…" he muttered, letting a deep sigh interrupt him. Shaking his head, the tutor turned back to the Princess, smiling. "Your Mother was a remarkable person. I'm sure she accomplished much in her life…"_

_

* * *

_

Alena blinked awake, staring at a thin canopy of maple and cedar trees blocking an evening sky. A cool, ethereal mist blanketed their makeshift campsite, causing the princess to involuntarily shiver in its dampness. Shifting on her side, she curled into a tight ball, hoping to contain some of her warmth.

The dream seemed to be a reoccurring one. They were now into their third night since they retrieved the golden bracelet, and every time she would remember Brey's lesson about life and death as she slept. Why did that time keep cropping up? Did she fear her tutor's death was imminent as well? Every part of her mind begged for such thoughts to leave, to be forgotten and remain optimistic. After all, they _had_ made it out of the orc forest unscathed. They _did_ seem to be on the right track to finding their way back to Frenor. Timothy _did_ assure them so long as they kept east, they would stumble across the Old Merchant Road in due time. Doubts should be non-existent with so much optimism present.

Alena glanced in Brey's direction. Although her childhood was almost a blur, the princess still remembered what her tutor looked like when he told her about life and death, as that lesson would always be ingrained in her mind. Back then, the face had yet to see wrinkles, the back had yet to slouch, the hair had yet to see white, and the scalp had yet to see daylight.

He seemed so calm and serene as he slept. While the wound had finally stopped bleeding, the danger still was not over. His face remained pale as the loss of blood took its toll. At his age, it was remarkable he was still alive at all. _Probably just clinging on so he can lecture us when he wakes up_, Alena thought wryly, turning on her back again. Still, if that was what it took to keep him going, so be it.

The princess was about to drift off into sleep again when she heard a light muttering over the usual twilight noise of crickets and other nocturnal animals. Sitting up, she noticed Cristo at the other end of their camp, kneeling in his praying stance. While it _was_ his turn at watch, to be praying so late at night seemed a little odd. Curious, and not too anxious to fall back asleep only to have the dream again, Alena made her way to her bodyguard.

"Cristo," she lightly uttered, gently touching his shoulder. In the past, the bodyguard would crossly shout at her for interrupting such a private and spiritual moment. However, he had not displayed any outward hostility for a week now, and Alena doubted he would suddenly start now.

Indeed, Cristo merely stopped his prayer and calmly turned his head. "Yes?" he said in an emotionless voice.

Alena strolled around to kneel in front of him, placing her hand on her knees. "Why are you praying so late at night?" she asked. The bodyguard blinked, as though he did not expect the question. The princess clarified. "I mean, most of the time Zenithists pray near noon and in the evening as the sun is going down. Isn't it too late to be doing this?" She realized her conversation was probably dull, but she felt the need to talk about anything right now, especially with a close friend such as Cristo.

"It doesn't matter," he replied sullenly. He looked away, apparently depressed. "Master Dragon has forsaken me."

"W…what?" Alena stuttered, her eyes wide with shock. It was not the response she had expected. While the princess did not have any real close ties to the Zenithian religion, she knew how devoted any Zenithist was to the Master. Should the Master forsake Cristo, then his existence was meaningless. All his life spent in constant devotion of Him; his efforts, his time, his very heart and soul put into knowing how faithfully he followed Master Dragon's ethics and laws. All for naught, only to have his soul wander blindly on the world until it dissipated into thin air.

Yet, that just could not be true. Alena knew only a few Zenithists, but Cristo _had_ to be the most devoted one in Santeem. Why would the Master forsake such a loyal and devoted follower? It just would not make any sense.

Shuffling beside her bodyguard, she asked, "What makes you think so?"

Heaving a shuddering sigh, he replied, "My power. I no longer have it."

"Your power?" Alena echoed, a little confused. "You mean you got it from Him?"

"No," Cristo said, shaking his head. His voice seemed to grow weaker. "I mean the very basic of my clerical magic. I cannot even cast the very simplest of spells, as you saw for yourself. I tried to cast the spell after we left the cave and rested, thinking perhaps the trials we'd faced had exhausted my mind and body, leaving me unable to cast it properly. However, when I attempted to heal my burnt palm, the same results came about. Any spell I cast ends in failure. And… and if my magic does not work, it… it can only mean th…that… Master… Dragon has…"

Alena could see the tears coming. It must be as though he lost a close member of his family. Remembering the pain she suffered when her mother died, the princess knew what her friend needed right now.

She took her bodyguard into her arms, allowing him to cry on her chest. Slowly petting his curly hair, Alena gently whispered reassuring words into his ear. Several moments passed, Cristo's muffled weeping lightly echoing in the night's misty air. The princess felt oddly relaxed in this position. She felt as though she could remain here, gently cradling Cristo as a mother would, for the rest of the evening.

His moment of sorrow passed shortly, however, and he raised himself from Alena's arms. "I…" he lightly muttered, looking down. He paused, taking a deep, shuddering breath. "I'm… afraid, Alena," he said at length.

The princess gave a small frown. Cristo needed reassurance, and needed it desperately. Yet, all the reassurance Timothy gave her did very little to improve her morale. How could she give any when her own world was shrouded with hopelessness as well? She had to try, though.

"Cristo," she lightly said, "do you still sense the vipers?"

"Yes," he replied, his voice still mournful. "The evil I felt in their presence is still strong, even this far from the cave." The bodyguard faced Alena, his eyes desperate. "I know it's hard to believe. Indeed, it makes no sense for them to follow us this far and not attack. But you have to trust me! I _do_ feel them close…"

Cristo's voice trailed off, a sudden thought coming to mind. His expression changed from melancholy to realization. "If I still feel the evil…" he absently mumbled, looking down.

"…Then your powers can't be all gone," Alena finished for him, thankful he had come to the same assumption she had. "And if that's the case, then Master Dragon hasn't forsaken you, right?"

The bodyguard was silent for a moment, his head turned down in deep thought. Suddenly, his shoulders began to bob up and down. Alena feared he was about to start to cry again but was relieved when she heard a light chuckle escape him. Cristo looked up, a smile on his face. "I've been foolish," he said, shaking his head.

Alena patted him on the shoulder reassuringly. She could not help but smile as well. Now _that_ sounded like the Cristo she knew. Perhaps he was going to finally put an end to his odd behavior.

The princess suddenly realized her bodyguard _still_ had not revealed the reasoning for his behavior since the night in Frenor. Perhaps now was the time to bring the subject up while he was displaying some of his old character. In a very forward manner, Alena asked him.

Cristo's smile faded and he looked away again. For a moment, Alena feared he had reverted because of her question, perhaps becoming even more closed off if it offended him.

However, the bodyguard eventually looked back, a serious look in his eyes. "Alena," he said evenly, "you mustn't share this with anyone, do you understand? I doubt you will believe me, as even I have difficulty believing it. But whether you do or don't is irrelevant. Timothy must not know and, if he survives, Brey must not know. Even you should not know, but I feel you deserve to know. So you must swear to me you will never let another soul know." He grabbed her shoulders, lightly shaking them. "Do you swear?"

"I… I swear!" Alena stuttered, raising her left hand. Cristo's actions took her by surprise. Rarely did she ever see him so adamant about anything.

He removed his hands from her shoulders. "Alright." Cristo took a breath, trying to figure out the best way to describe what happened. He had gone over it many times in his head on their journey and still was without a clear answer. He was going to have to try, though, if anything, for himself.

"While I was standing watch outside the inn as you were sneaking inside," he began, "something…" He paused, uncomfortably rolling his tongue into his cheek. "Something extraordinary happened. I gazed at the constellation of Master Dragon to see a single star suddenly appear in His head. I swear it looked as though His eye opened and gazed back at me for an instant. After that, the next thing I remember was Tim shaking me as though I'd been asleep."

"You were praying, Cristo," Alena said, recalling how angry she had been when she saw her bodyguard just kneeling in the grass when she could have really used his help. Indeed, had he not been in that position, they might not even be where they were now, the kidnappers caught and her impostor saved. Still, it was all in the past. What had been done was done, and there was nothing to do to change it.

"That's just the thing, Alena," Cristo continued. "I wasn't! I have no recollection of you passing by or praying after I saw the star appear. But when Tim woke me, a strange feeling came over me. I felt as though all the knowledge of the Texts coursed through my veins but was unattainable. I felt as though my life had new meaning, and that nothing I was currently doing mattered."

"Do you still feel that way?" the princess asked, fearing the answer she suspected.

Cristo looked away, frowning. "Yes," he quietly said at length. He turned back, though, taking Alena's hands into his and clasping them tightly. Her eyes widened slightly, a little shocked by his action. "But you have to understand. I've gone over it time and time again. Why was a given a better understanding of the Texts? Why do I have this power to sense evil? The only reason I can think of is because…" He paused, choosing his words carefully. "Because… I believe… the Master has touched me."

"What?" Alena's eyes widened further, an incredulous expression on her face. This was more than she expected. She thought Cristo would merely say his odd behavior was just an act, and that he was sorry for having been acting so strangely and stop. She thought he would have explained his evil-sensing power was something brought on by his Zenithism studies, that all Zenithian clerics had this ability. However, to claim Master Dragon had _touched_ him? Such a statement was bold, even by Zenithian standards. No one, not even priests, would say such a thing. One would have to be very special to have been touched by the Master.

Cristo looked at the princess for long moments, studying her reaction. Eventually, he dolefully muttered, "You don't believe me, do you."

"N…no!" Alena quickly replied, shaking her head. Although his story was far-fetched, the sincerity in Cristo's voice caused indecision in the princess' mind. "I didn't…"

"It's all right if you don't," he interrupted, smiling knowingly. "I can understand if you don't." He squeezed Alena's hands tighter in his. "But, please, before you come to any conclusions, let me finish."

The bodyguard eased his grip. "When I came to that conclusion, I was faced with a new problem. Why me? Why would the Master touch me? Again, I could only find one answer, and that is I'm destined to do something grand."

"Cristo, I think you're exaggerating," Alena said, removing her hands from her bodyguard's grasp. She unconsciously moved a hand to her mouth, realizing what she just said probably stung him.

He remained silent for a moment, a blank expression on his face. However, Cristo did not look away as she expected. Nor did he continue to ask her to believe in his words. Instead, he merely smiled. "You're right," he said, "I probably am. I'm sorry. I may be looking too deep into this." Alena smiled, thankful he was not angry or upset with her.

"But I still believe I've been touched by Master Dragon," he continued. "For what reason, I do not know. I guess I will find out in due time, whenever the Master deems it appropriate." He looked down at his burned hand, gingerly clenching and unclenching it as though trying to determine the powers he held within his palm.

Alena's eyes widened slightly. She realized this was the first she had seen the burn, and perhaps it was for the best. Even in the dim light of twilight she could make out the more gruesome details of the wound. A red blister seemed to wrap across his palm, some areas already beginning to peel off. "Why don't you get that taken care of?" she asked, pointing at the wound.

Cristo gave her a pained look.

"No, I didn't mean it like that," Alena apologized, shaking her head. "I meant, why don't you bandage it? Won't it get infected if you leave it like that?"

"The worst of it is over," he replied, smiling knowingly. "What little healing magic I was able to cast on it has prevented any infections. All I can do now is let nature take its course."

"But doesn't it hurt at all?"

"Not really," Cristo stated matter-of-factly. "I haven't needed to use this hand much since we left the cave, so…" His voice trailed off as he suddenly looked around like a roe picking up the scent of a predator.

"What is it?" Alena asked, her voice involuntarily slightly quieter than normal. The last time she had seen her bodyguard react in such a manner was in the presence of orcs. If he could sense them close by now, she did not wish to give their position away.

"I sense them," he replied, looking around the camp's perimeter. "I can feel the orcs' presence over the vipers'."

"You mean it's stronger?" the princess said, a little intrigued by her bodyguard's ability.

"No," he clarified, "it's a different sensation. The vipers have an overbearing and ambient presence within my soul. The orcs are more like points of recognition within my mind."

"Can you tell how far away they are?"

Cristo shook his head. "I only know they are there. I have no way of knowing how close." He reached for his sword which was laying a short distance from him and stood up. "It would be best if we wake Timothy and move to a safe place before they appear." Alena nodded in agreement and stood up as well, hastily making her way to the thief.

"Tim," she whispered into his ear, lightly shaking him.

He mumbled for a moment, disorientated. Since he was the first to take the watch this night, the first thing he expected upon wakening was sunlight. Seeing it was still night would allow for some confusion. However, his instincts were quick to realize something was amiss and he soon bolted up. "What's wrong?" he asked, grabbing his heavier garments which were too uncomfortable to sleep in.

"Orcs, I think," Alena replied. "Cristo said he sensed something, so…"

"You don't need to go into details, dear," the thief said, tucking in his travelling jacket. He then strode off to help the bodyguard with Brey.

Alena stared at him for a moment as he took off, a stunned look in her eyes. She did not know if his voice had been unintentionally harsh or not. After all, he _had_ just woken up, and most people were usually very moody in such a state. However, the princess could not shake a nagging sensation within her mind that it was more than that; that Timothy might not be as loving and caring towards her as that one night not even a week ago.

No. Her heart refused to believe this. The affection they shared by the misty pool could not have been only a moment. There was true love felt there. It must be the stress mounting. She had seen her father and Brey display similar actions, so why could Timothy not be the same?

"Alena!" his voice called out, interrupting her disjointing thoughts. "We need your help! Get over here!" Again, the harsh voice; accidental surely, but harsh nonetheless.

"Yes?" she said, walking over to her companions.

"We've got a problem," the thief said, staring down at the unconscious tutor. "We can hide easily enough, as there are plenty of climbable trees to do the trick. Unfortunately, James is another story." He looked up, his eyes falling on the princess sympathetically. "There's just no place around here to hide him adequately, I'm afraid."

"What do you suggest then?" Alena asked. Timothy looked at her for a moment, as though he was about to ask the same question. It was not exactly the best thing for morale.

"The way I see it," he replied at length as he rubbed his chin, "we have two options. The first one is to try to run while carrying Brey. The other-"

A rustling from the surrounding forest interrupted the thief and all three of the travelers brought their weapons up defensively. "Guess we have no choice but to go with our second option after all," Timothy remarked dryly.

The bush continued to grow with activity, the orcs making their presence known even without Cristo's abilities. This confused Alena a bit, remembering how the raiders would rely on surprise tactics before forward rushes. Could Cristo have sensed something other than orcs, something so menacing no traveler would have been able to report it? _Letting your imagination run wild, Alena_ she scolded herself, lightly moving her head to shake any fear aside. After all, what could be worse than orcs in this world?

The monsters finally burst through the forest and the travelers braced themselves for the initial onslaught. However, for long moments, there were no shrieking battle cries, no clashing of weapons, and no shouts of agony as both parties fought to the bitter end. The orcs, a half-dozen strong and clearly more than a match for the travelers, stared at their opponents the moment they burst into the campsite. A confused expression was etched on the face of every single one.

While the surprise of both parties seemed to last forever, only a few seconds after the orcs had entered the campsite had passed before Alena instinctively reacted. Her whip snapped forward, a thin spray of orc blood following its path as it slashed across the face of one of her enemies. The raider stumbled backwards, the blow catching everyone off-guard.

Alena had drawn the first blood, somewhat by accident, but at least her opponents now knew they were serious should blows start to fall. Yet, seeing the raging fire growing in the eyes of the orcs, the princess wondered if this all could have been avoided had she not struck out. It was too late for that now, though. The hatred she saw beginning to take over the orcs clearly outlined their course of action.

Save two of the whole mass, the orcs rushed forward, revenge foremost on their minds. The travelers tried to fend off the attackers but the force was too overwhelming and they were knocked to the ground where they could do little more than feebly block blow after blow. The raiders did not even reach for their weapons, so bent on hurting the travelers their fists seemed more than adequate to vent their rage.

The attack did not last long, though, as an ear-piercing shriek interrupted the orcs' melee. The raiders stopped and turned, staring at one of the orcs which had not rushed forward. Through a dazed vision, Alena was able to make out the curious actions of the orc, seemingly barking out hoarse commands and waving the others off. A few, disgruntled moans escaped a few of the attackers, but they did as they were apparently commanded.

Alena, Cristo, and Timothy were forced into a kneeling position, three orcs keeping their rusty swords on them at all time. Two more of the raiders went to the unconscious form of Brey, kicking and screeching into his ears as they thought the old tutor was merely sleeping. Alena felt a sickening sensation grow within her gut as she could do no more than watch her tutor being abused in such a manner. She wished she could stand and rush to his aid, taking out the orcs in a single motion. However, she knew the moment she moved in any attempt to get away, she would find a rusty blade embedded in her chest. Besides, after the beating she just took, the princess did not know if she even had the strength to fight back.

The orcs seemed to finally give up on Brey and began to rummage through their meager supplies. Alena began to worry whether they might find the golden bracelet, making their journey all for naught. She looked at Timothy, as he was the last person she had seen with the treasure. The thief gave her a reassuring grin, as though he had read her very worries. Still, Alena would not stop worrying until the danger was past.

Having found nothing more substantial than food in their possession, the orc in command gave out a harsh barking noise. The rest of the raiders slugged the travelers a little more, then disappeared into the forest, their rustling echoing in the dark night.

Once the enemy was gone, Alena could do little more than ungracefully collapse on the damp ground, her companions following in similar fashion. All she wanted was to lie on the ground, let the numbing pain that persisted within her body subside as a blissful unconsciousness began to sweep over her. _No!_ her mind stubbornly shouted at her. _They spared you once, but they could be back, and with no mercy in their foul hearts. We have to get out of here, and fast._

Her body groaning in protest as she did, the princess wearily pushed herself up, getting a better idea of how her companions were doing. "Tim…" she weakly said. "Cristo…? Are you all right?" Both her companions were groggily recovering as well. Bruises covered their bodies, trickles of blood leaking from numerous cuts. It could have been worse, but Alena had to wonder, aside from death, how it _could_ get any worse.

Although he managed to display a stoic expression, Cristo's pain was still evident. His breathing was haggard and the support his arms supplied as he pushed himself up was shaky. She also noticed the bodyguard's mouth was slightly moving, as though a silent prayer was being uttered. It was not hard to understand the reasoning for it, though. Again in desperate time of need, the Master had failed to assist His follower. Cristo's mind was undoubtedly reeling in confusion and despair in a similar fashion from earlier in the night.

However, he had come out of the state of depression easily enough before, so he should have little trouble dealing with the turmoil on his own. Right now, Alena's heart directed her elsewhere.

Timothy was rolling slowly on the ground, moaning as he clutched his chest in pain. Although it was nothing more serious than internal bruising, Alena's immediate thoughts were injuries as severe as broken ribs, punctured lungs, internal bleeding, and any other ailments her panicked mind could conjure. She was no more than ten feet away, yet the distance seemed like a giant chasm before her. She tried to crawl to him, to perhaps provide some comfort in his agony, but every movement sent flashes of numbing pain. She was determined to be with him, though, and no amount of pain was going to stop her.

"Tim," she lightly called out, her lungs heaving as the numb pain seemed to even strain her voice. Her hands moved forward sluggishly, but steadily.

The thief did not respond as he continued his moaning.

Alena continued to lightly call out, moving forward as fast her tortured body would allow. It did not take as long as she thought to reach her beloved and she gingerly reached out a shaking hand to touch him, perhaps even to cradle him as she did Cristo as their wounds healed together. Her fingers brushed across his back as she started to ask whether he was all right. A rather stupid question, since the pain Timothy suffered was blatantly apparent. The princess still felt a need to say it, though; if anything, to let him know she was close, and ready to nurse him back to health.

She was interrupted, however. Timothy cut her off before she had a chance to finish her sentence. Alena somewhat expected this, as she knew the thief, like any man, was probably too proud to admit he was hurt more than the truth told. A gruff, "I'm fine!" would not leave a stunned expression on the princess' face.

When the thief's head turned, his face was flared with anger and his words drenched in venom. "You _moron_!"

Alena's senses went numb. She could not hear the mild, nocturnal noises of the forest, she could not see Timothy's body lying before her, she could not even feel the numb pain that persisted within her body.

All she could feel was a piercing, rusty, dull blade slice through her chest and twist savagely into the bottom of her gut.

"W…what?" was all she managed to utter in response.

"You heard me!" the thief angrily shot, slowly rising onto his knees. He still clutched his chest but he did not seem to display anymore pain through the ire in his eyes. "This didn't have to happen! Couldn't you tell they weren't raiders?"

Alena stared forward, but was unable to focus on anything. "No…" she mumbled.

"Well, they _weren't_!" He coughed a bit, groaning as every one sent flaming spasms through his chest. "They were as surprised to see us as we were to see them. We could have easily just backed away, disappeared into the woods, and they wouldn't have given us a second thought, carrying on whatever business they had in this area. But, _no_! _You_ have to go and attack one of them, and…"

Timothy paused, his eyes finally falling onto Alena's face. He saw tears lightly trickle down, her shoulders lightly bobbing as she sniffed back a few sobs. Perhaps before he would have apologized and hugged her sympathetically. However, his patience was growing thin with her. Too many times she had displayed the inexperience of a spoiled girl, expecting everything to be fixed with an apology. Whatever respect her physical abilities had left on him was all but gone now.

"Ah…" he grumbled. Waving her away as he turned from her, the thief took off into the perimeter of the woods.

"Tim…" she uttered. Even though her sight was blurred by tears, Alena still watched him get up and move to an area of their camp the orcs did not search. She so much wanted to cry but the pain, both physical and emotional, made it impossible.

"Alena," she heard Cristo's distant voice. She did not want to deal with anything else right now, though. She did not want to hear counseling from her bodyguard. She just wanted to be left alone, to let the sorrow trapped within to flow freely from her soul.

"It's Brey…"

_So what? What does it matter? Who cares about Brey right now? Can't you see _I'm _the one who needs help? Why can't Tim see that? Why did he have to be so harsh? So maybe I _did_ make a mistake. At least we're all still…_

"He's dead."

Alena's lungs choked in mid-breath. _No_! Her mind raced furiously. _No! Anything but _that!_ He _has_ to be alive. Cristo must be wrong! Oh, Master, _please_ let him be wrong_!

The princess spun around, her emotional distress with Timothy pushed into the back of her mind. She crawled forward, seeing Cristo huddled over the peaceful form of Brey. Too peaceful, perhaps…

"He can't be!" Alena cried, her voice cracking. She reached her old tutor and lightly touched his balding head with shaking hands. His body was warm, but that could prove nothing. She looked at his chest and saw it was no longer slowly moving up and down. No breath, no life… no hope…

She grabbed her bodyguard's shoulders, roughly shaking him. "Cristo!" she wailed, her pleading eyes brimming with tears. "Heal him! Oh, by the Master, you just _have_ to be able to!"

He looked away, as though ashamed to face the princess. "I… I've already tried," he said, his voice shaky, "but my magic fails me, just as before."

Absolute despair befell Alena's face. This could not be happening right now. It all had to be some sort of terrible, ongoing dream. She so wanted to be back home now, to forget her whole stupid quest, to resume her dull routine, and leave danger and excitement behind. Her mind scolded her this was all her fault and her heart believed every word. Had she not thrown the boomerang, had she actually put some effort into learning how to use the stupid thing, Brey might have stood a chance against the viper.

"There was nothing you could have done," she heard Cristo gently say. Only then did Alena realize her thoughts were being spoken out loud and a mild burst of embarrassment let the despair subside for a brief moment. It was not enough to calm her chaotic mind, though. "The viper would have had him whether you threw it or not," the bodyguard continued, his voice unemotional but reassuring. "You probably did him a favor by knocking him out, saving him from the pain such an injury."

Alena looked at him for a moment, her face stunned as a few tears of despair slid down her cheeks. "Th…that isn't a good thing, Cristo," she said, frowning a little.

The bodyguard rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. "I guess it didn't come out the way I meant," he apologized. "I meant Brey-"

"I knew they wouldn't find it," Timothy interrupted as he re-entered the campsite, unaware of Brey's condition. He was lightly tossing the golden bracelet up and down, treating the valuable artifact as nothing more significant than a child's toy. "Those orcs aren't bright enough to search other places than a… oh!" The thief let out a mild gasp upon witnessing the scene before him. Judging from Alena's grief-stricken face, Cristo's melancholy expression, and Brey's prone form, he did not have to guess what had happened.

However, instead of providing comfort to his companions, Timothy merely looked away. His frown was not that of sympathy, but almost cocky, as though he had expected this to happen.

Alena could not believe he would do such a thing. She crawled on her hands and knees, grabbing his leg pitifully. "Tim!" she wailed. "H…he's dead! H…how can he be dead? This can't be happening! Can't you do something?"

"What could _I_ possibly do?" the thief shot angrily, turning down on the princess as he lightly kicked her away. "Cristo's the healer here, not me!"

He turned to the bodyguard with an accusing glare. "Let me guess, Cris," he said. "You tried to call upon your powers, only to have the Master not answer your prayers, am I right?" Cristo nodded sullenly.

"I gather you did not even try to breathe life into the old man, right?" Timothy added. At that, Cristo looked curiously at the thief.

Timothy shook his head, a tiny smirk finding its way to his mouth. "It's just like you Zenithists," he said, an almost contempt tone in his voice. "Always thinking Zenithian magic is the _only_ way to save someone's life."

"W…what do you mean?" Alena quickly asked, a glimmer of hope sparkling in her tear-drenched eyes.

The thief sighed. "Fine," he grumbled, making his way over to Brey. "I'll show you what I mean, if anything to teach you two something about surviving out in the wild." Timothy knelt beside the old tutor's body and tilted his calm head slightly up. "Just remember," the thief added before he began, "this _isn't_ a guarantee it will save his life, so if this doesn't work, I don't know of anything else that will." His companions nodded grimly, and prayed to Master Dragon this technique of "breathing life" would work.

Timothy placed his hands on Brey's chest and began to press down onto it in a series of quick, violent motions. After several of these, the thief gently grabbed Brey's head and held it steady. He then bent over and placed his mouth to Brey's.

Alena's eyes widened with shock as it appeared Timothy was kissing her tutor. However, upon seeing the thief's cheeks slightly bulge out, she quickly realized he was blowing air into him; no, breathing the_ life_ into him! Once Timothy expelled all of his air into Brey, the thief continued to press into his chest before breathing into the old tutor again.

He repeated this cycle for long moments, his face always grim and determined. Such was a side of the thief Alena had never seen before. He had displayed light-hearted kindness and passionate fury in many cases, but seriousness still seemed a foreign concept to Timothy. There was indeed more to this man than the princess was first attracted to but could these various personalities change her perspective of him? Despite the reservations her mind continued to bombard Alena with, her heart's interpretation of him remained unchanged, and that was all that mattered.

Eventually, Brey's body violently jerked forward, a muffled cough escaping his mouth. Timothy backed away, smiling at the satisfaction of an accomplished task. "He should be all right," he said, holding back the urge to add, "…For now." Brey's recovery may have only delayed the inevitable as the wound he had suffered was still life threatening without proper medical attention. Still, any form of adverse information would not be good for morale with all that had happened this night.

No, seeing Alena's face break out into pure, undulated joy, not even the Ruler of Evil would want to have such an expression tarnished. It was best to let her enjoy it while she could.

The princess' tears of happiness washed away her tears of despair upon seeing her tutor slowly raise. Brey rubbed his head, blinking as the disorientation of unconsciousness wore off. He lightly groaned as the numb pain in his shoulder finally became apparent. As he massaged the slowly healing wound, he gazed around, his eyes meeting Alena's. The old tutor blinked a few times, perplexed as to why she was crying. "What… happened…?" he managed to ask.

All Alena could do was wrap her arms around Brey, her tears of joy falling on her old tutor's shoulders. "You… you're _alive_!" she cried, squeezing him tightly. "Oh, thank the Master! You're alive!"

Despite confusion and wincing pain in his shoulder, Brey smiled and returned her hug, gently patting the princess' back in comfort.


	14. Chapter 13: Meeting At The Graves

Chapter 13: Meeting At The Graves

A damp, grey fog hung in the valley Frenor hid in, reflecting the travelers' moods perfectly as they made their descent along one of the many paths into the central village. The ground they walked on was soft with moisture, suggesting it had been rained upon a few times since they left on their quest. Although a few streams of sunlight filtered through the bleakness of the dim morning, it did not seem to do much to improve their disposition.

Despite having awakened, Brey's travelling condition was still not very good. With the dangerously low blood level in his body, the old tutor's strength was weak at best. When he could, he stubbornly attempted to walk on his own, using a hastily crafted crutch for support. However, his companions had to carry him most of the way as such stress taxed his body severely and he had to rest most of the time.

Still, the rest of their journey back to Frenor had been more or less uneventful. Timothy eventually was able to steer them back to the Old Merchant Road and, thankfully, no more orcs interfered with their quest. Cristo insisted the evil presence of the vipers was still all about them but the threat was more or less dismissed as insubstantial to their immediate task at hand. Since the monsters had not attacked the travelers since they left the cave, why would they bother now when so many better opportunities were presented in the past?

Now, finally nearing the end, one would expect the travelers to be in light spirits. The truth could not be further. Whenever he was awake, Brey would say little and eat little, usually falling back asleep after his companions had to force food down his mouth. Cristo, his clerical magic still failing him every time he tried to use it, remained despondent despite having eased some of his soul on Alena's shoulders. And Timothy seemed to have become somewhat aloof, keeping to himself.

Even though Brey's recovery rejuvenated Alena's spirit and hope, the thief's detached behavior was becoming a major concern for the princess. She could understand his initial anger when the orcs very nearly killed them due to her pre-emptive strike but that happened three nights ago. Surely any anger he felt towards her should have dissipated by now.

And then there was something else - something strangely foreign to Timothy ever since they retrieved the golden bracelet. During the rest of their journey back to Frenor, Alena deeply thought about it, trying to ascertain what it was. She noticed the thief was not only avoiding her company, but her companions' as well. Granted, Cristo was not the easiest to talk to right now as his mood could even drown a jester, and Brey was never really friendly with Timothy to begin with. However, the thief would normally remain about the campfire, talking with his companions and sharing a few local tales to keep them amused. Now he would just keep to himself, remaining a fair distance from the fire within the shadows, always gazing over the golden bracelet as though the artifact was his and his alone.

The fact he seemed to have hoarded the bracelet to himself was strange as well. Not once did he allow the princess or anyone else to hold or look at it. He would always hide it at night, as though he did not trust his companions.

Was _that_ what she was feeling from the thief: distrust? He should know full well he could leave a dragon's hoard beside her and not worry about her taking off with a few baubles as he slept. Why should Timothy distrust her?

_ He shouldn't,_ her heart argued, but Alena's mind constantly tried to tell her the thief probably did not share her feelings with her - that, being so close to rescuing her impostor, nothing else mattered. However, as the princess was finding to be the case, her heart tended to easily win any argument with her mind, pushing all doubts into the furthest reaches of her head.

As the travelers made their way back into Frenor, they noticed the town had settled back into its regular routine. The farmers tended their orchids and fields, women were going about their daily, household chores, and children were playing in any nook or cranny they could squeeze themselves into. Apparently, with the "Princess" having not shown herself in a week and a half, plus the fact Frenor's habitants were still unaware she had been abducted, most of the people assumed she had left in secrecy. Alena found it curious the kidnappers had not tried to cause pandemonium throughout the town by revealing to the populous the "Princess" was in their grasp until the ransom was met. Then again, most of Frenor did not even know the golden bracelet _was_ their town treasure and the kidnappers probably did not want to come out of their hiding for fear of the entire town chasing after them. They had done all they could by telling Alena the demands. After that, it was a matter of waiting to see if their plan went accordingly.

_ Well_, Alena thought, _their little plan succeeded. We got the bracelet, so now my impostor can be set free_. However, just giving the golden bracelet away in a straight exchange did not sit well with the princess. She could not let the kidnappers win like this. There had to be a way to rescue the "Princess" and still retain the golden bracelet afterwards. And, judging from the way Timothy did not seem to let the bracelet stray from his grasp, Alena felt the thief would share in her sentiments as well.

There had to be another way of doing this…

* * *

The graveyard seemed eerie at twilight. The fog had hung in the valley all day and into the night, oozing its way among the many eroded tombstones. Two torches pierced into the ground flickered hypnotically before Alena and Timothy, their shadows dancing behind them. However, the light did little to calm the princess' nerves.

She had heard plenty of tales of the dead raising from the grave. The ambience of a night such as this was always used as the setting in those stories. She would be told them before she went to bed or on a journey across the seas as something to pass the time and, while she rarely would be frightened, the tales were having a funny way of creeping up on her senses tonight. Every so often her peripheral vision would catch a glimpse of movement but when she would dart her eyes in that direction, only more fog would reveal itself.

_ Easy, Alena_, she thought, taking in a steadying breath. _There's no one else out there, just the other two impostors in hiding_. Still, the princess would have felt calmer having her own companions with her for this delicate plan. Unfortunately, almost upon entering the main settlement of Frenor, Cristo took Brey with him to the Zenithian Temple. And, despite even a little bit of pleading, the bodyguard was so bent on seeking the Master's forgiveness for whatever sin he had committed to be stripped of most of his clerical powers, he refused to come out.

Alena had even suggested they get the help of the townsfolk, or even perhaps the giant bodyguards the innkeeper had. However, Timothy rejected the suggestion, claiming he did not want more people than necessary involved. Although he did not make it obvious, Alena could not shake the feeling the thief _really_ wanted the glory of "rescuing the Princess of Santeem" all to himself. In fact, he had even suggested to Alena she wait "safely" at the inn while the whole exchange was carried out. She was able to convince the thief she was going along, though, after a twisted arm changed his mind.

Now she had to rely on her companions' impostors for this to work. The plan was simple enough but she could clearly tell they were inexperienced fighters. After all, they had been easily dealt with the night this all began.

Alena looked behind her again, her gaze falling on the rundown shack that was the undertaker's home. When they had gone there to tell the crazy man they would be using his graveyard for the night, they found it empty. Timothy dismissed it, claiming he was probably hiding in some corner of the woods blabbing off gibberish like the lunatic he was. Still, Alena could not shake the feeling the undertaker was nearby, and would leap out of the woods screaming like an idiot about disturbing "his dead" right when her plan was about to take place. So long as that did not occur, everything should be fine.

"How long have we been waiting for?" Alena asked, her words interrupting the stillness of the foggy night. They had been quiet for too long, and she felt the need to at least ease some of the tension that Timothy was unconsciously displaying.

The thief sat on a crooked tombstone, his eyes mainly trained on the golden bracelet he held in his hands. "A few hours, I think," he replied mechanically.

"They should have shown up by now," the princess muttered, more to herself than to her companion.

"They'll get here when they get here," Timothy said. "They're probably taking precautions just the same as we have."

Alena had not thought of this. And, if that were the case, what sort of precautions would they take? Would they search out the surrounding forest to find Alena's trap waiting? What would happen then? The princess had not counted on such an occurrence and suddenly found more doubts creeping up on her.

"Don't worry about it, though," Timothy added as if he just read her thoughts. He looked up, an erudite smile on his face. "The kidnappers did not seem too well organized. They probably just lucked out that night. The Princess' escorts should be well hidden, especially in this fog."

Alena could not help but look at the thief with a perplexed gaze. Not only was he acting distrustfully lately but his speech was no longer its usual tone. The calmness in his voice was something completely foreign, or at least a side of him Alena was not aware of. The closest thing remotely similar would have to be the way Cristo had begun to talk. Still, her bodyguard had an excuse for his change; albeit a farfetched one, but an excuse nonetheless. Alena could not think of an excuse for Timothy's altered conduct. She would have thought the thief would be even more pleasant to be around with their quest having succeeded, yet the exact opposite occurred. Was there something she was missing?

"Tim," she said, her voice somewhat subdued as she feared another harsh outburst should she cross a delicate, invisible line with her love. "Is everything all right? I mean, do you _feel_ all right?"

The thief looked at her. His eyes seemed devoid of any compassion but were neither flared with anger; completely emotionless. They also seemed truthful, however. "I'm fine," he said. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh, no reason," Alena replied abruptly, ending the conversation quickly. She did not want to pursue it further out of fear of some sort of harsh rebuttal from the thief, one she did not think she could handle. The princess looked away, deep in thought. _No reason at all, except I'm deeply concerned about you, Tim. Master, please let his behavior just be his obsession with my impostor._ So long as her other plan, the plan she let no one know of, went accordingly as well, then all her worries would be for naught.

As they waited in utter silence for another hour, Alena began to wonder whether the kidnappers would even show up. After all, the conditions of their plans _did_ seem rather unusual. Granted, the graveyard was a good, neutral site for such an exchange, but how would the kidnappers even know they had the ransom or when to meet them here. Without any success in finding a cohort who could inform them the meeting was about to take place, all she and the thief could do was wait and see what would occur.

A sudden revelation came to the princess' mind as she thought about the peculiar circumstances that had to be met. Why give the townsfolk an impossible quest to save the Princess of their country? Alena's first thoughts regarding the demand, as shared by her companions, was the kidnappers were incompetent to retrieve the artifact themselves and so used her impostor as a means to an end. However, could it be they just wanted to keep Frenor busy while they made their escape to more populated areas where they could undoubtedly win an even heftier ransom?

The more she thought about it though, the more Alena realized she was, again, worrying over nothing. Such a feat would be foolhardy. The princess knew if she were kidnapped, and her father found out, he would put all his resources to use in order to find the kidnappers and have them exterminated, regardless of any threats such criminals would make. Even the most ignorant crook would realize this.

No, the kidnappers were still here in Frenor, her impostor still in their clutches. They would come, maybe not tonight, maybe not in a few days, but they would come. Alena would just have to learn to be patient.

Thankfully, her patience was not put through a hard test as she soon saw someone emerging from the fog. Her hand instinctively went to her hip, somewhat of a becoming habit when the first surge of adrenaline hit her in any situation. However, her whip was not there waiting, and nor did she really need it. Timothy had recommended no weapons for the meeting as a showing of trust between the two parties. It was sound advice and Alena had plenty of other weapons at her disposal other than her whip.

The figure's silhouette became more discernible as he drew close. Upon seeing his form as quite large, Alena instantly thought of the man who broke her nose on the night of the abduction. Once he drew close, the recognition was instant. It was indeed the same man: the same build, the same clothes, the same cocky stance; the same, arrogant, unshaven face…

It took a considerable amount of will for Alena to resist the urge to charge forth and deliver some deep seeded vengeance. However, for their plan to come into play, she could not afford to act foolishly, no matter how good it made her feel. _You'll get your chance, Alena_, she reminded herself, slightly clenching and unclenching her fists to keep her rage in check._ You're just going to have to be… patient._

Timothy noticed Alena's hidden rage and decided it would be prompt for him to do the talking. The thief hopped off the tombstone and walked forth, his right hand slightly cupping the bracelet so the large man could not be certain whether they had it or not. He walked in front of the princess, lightly pushing her behind him. She accepted the lack of trust, knowing full well Timothy was only doing what he felt was for the best given the circumstances.

"You have it?" the large man asked gruffly, his arms folded across the chest. His voice seemed to waver a little, suggesting his confidence was not the strongest. Or, Timothy thought, perhaps he still had some fears over Alena. Although nearly two weeks had passed since the incident, the sight of such a small, young woman bursting through a wood wall tended to leave a memorable impression.

"I may," Timothy replied, holding out the cupped hand to keep the large man guessing. "First prove the Princess is safe."

The large man let out a deep but hollow laugh. "_You_ first have to prove you have the bracelet," he said, "or else there is no deal."

"We obviously wouldn't be here if we didn't have it, right?" Timothy contested.

"Not unless you had a trap waiting for us," was the counter.

The thief's eyes widened slightly. The kidnapper was not as much as an amateur as he had guessed. However, he still made the mistake of saying "us." Whatever accomplices he had were obviously nearby, as well as the Princess.

Timothy smiled. "You're a cautious man, my friend," he said, "but your caution is hardly required." The thief held out his hand and revealed the bracelet. Even in the fog, the torches' light danced brilliantly off its golden form.

The large man's hand involuntarily reached forward, the artifact's hypnotic dance entrancing him almost instantly. He had planned to ask for reassurances it was not a fake, but the beauty of the bracelet erased all doubts. "By the Master…" he lightly breathed.

"Impressive, isn't it," Timothy smiled, curling back his arm to hide the bracelet within his grasp again. "I can understand why you went to such great lengths as kidnapping the Princess to get this." The thief looked into his hand. "You know, I even considered keeping it for myself…"

"No! No!" he quickly replied, believing Timothy's bluff. He turned around and called out, "Piri, bring her out!" Moments later, the rat-faced man emerged from the forest, the fake Princess in his clutches with a dagger to her throat. However, other than the clothes she wore, Alena could not make out any of the features of her impostor in the fog.

"They got it, Thomas?" the rat-faced man asked anxiously. The large man nodded vigorously. Piri turned to Timothy and said, "Hand it over. Slowly." He pressed the knife against the impostor's throat threateningly. A pitiful whimper escaped from under his clamped hand. Timothy turned to Alena, who nodded in return. The thief nodded as well and started to walk towards the kidnappers.

Halfway, he feigned a stumble, giving him the opportunity to toss the golden bracelet away. The artifact went flying, bringing the kidnappers gaze with it. It was the distraction Alena needed, and she charged forward.

The distraction was fleeting, however, as anyone could blatantly see through it. The kidnappers quickly turned their attention back, putting a halt to Alena's charge. "That _wasn't_ a smart thing to do!" Thomas glared.

Alena smiled. _No, it wasn't_ she thought, referring to her opponents' actions. The distraction merely led to another as the kidnappers' attention was now focused on Alena and whatever she did. A surprise attack from behind would be completely unexpected.

The impostor's companions burst from the bush, intent on taking out the rat-faced man before he had a chance to respond. A silent, quick attack would have done the job, too. However, inexperienced as they were in such matters, the two men gave away their position by screaming out a pitiful battle cry as they charged.

Piri threw his hostage down and brought up his knife defensively. "I _knew_ there'd be a trap, you fool," he said angrily to his companion. Thomas could only offer a stunned expression as compensation as he turned to face the two charging men as well.

"Idiots!" Timothy cursed under his breath.

Alena did not share her companion's feelings. Deep down, she knew her companions' impostors would mess up this simple plan. However, the kidnappers' attention was now drawn to them and away from her; a distraction which led to another distraction which led to a third distraction. The moment she had waited for so long was finally here.

Cristo's impostor, the faster of the two and clumsily holding a copper sword, reached Piri first. The rat-faced man swung his knife in an attempt to ward him off. Not only did he succeed but Cristo's impostor completely halted his charge, unsure how to proceed.

The kidnappers were a little stunned by the complete lack of experience the man showed, probably expecting a Princess' escort to be more battle hardened. In fact, the rogues who brought the bracelet seemed to be much better warriors than these royal protectors were. Half a second after Piri had warded Cristo's impostor off, Thomas remembered who the real threat was.

Almost reflexively, the large man swung his arms around. He did not expect to hit anything but when the vibration of his arm making contact with Alena's face made his whole body shudder, he was completely unprepared and stumbled back.

Having built up so much speed in her second charge, the blow knocked Alena off her feet and sent her flying back where she crashed into a moss-covered tombstone. Her mind swam with disorientation. Waves of nausea engulfed her senses as she collapsed. Her clouded vision could barely make out Timothy's futile attempt to bring down Thomas. The thief knew skill and cunning in fights but when it came down to close combat, brute strength tended to win. All Alena wanted right now was to let unconsciousness take her over, to let the blissful rest wipe away the agony her body was in right now. They had lost, so she might as well just give up.

_ No_! her mind argued bitterly, _I've _never_ given up._ Never! Adrenaline washed away her nausea and the hot blood that spilled from her nose became invigorating. Her body shaking violently, Alena mustered all remaining strength to move. At first barely a crawl, she eventually found a way to get her trembling arms underneath. The effort to push herself up was agonizingly long, and several times her body urged her to give up. She was determined, though, and _nothing_ was going to stand in her way.

Another surge of adrenaline revitalized Alena, and a scream of rage escaped her blood-soaked mouth as she found her way onto her knees.

The combatants all stopped upon hearing the princess' roar. Their faces became horrified as they saw her rise. Her form shadowed in the torchlight, her face a bloody mess, and her shaking body erecting itself, Alena looked as though she had just awoken from the tombstone she had been lying against. Her eyes unnerved them all, though. A deep, seeded hatred lay behind her delicate orbs, promising a torturous death to anyone who crossed her path.

"Wh…what kind of demon are you?" Thomas gasped, forgetting about the helpless Timothy at his feet. The large man was more stunned than anyone that this tiny woman was still moving after the blow he gave her.

Piri did not seem to want to wait around to find out. The rat-faced man pushed Cristo's impostor down and slapped Thomas on the shoulder. "Grab the bracelet and let's get out of here," he said.

The large man shook his head for a second, as though coming out of a trance, and hastily nodded. He gave Timothy a swift kick in the side then darted for the area where the bracelet was thrown.

Alena saw him move in that direction and started to make after him. _He_ was the cause of her pain and suffering. _He_ would be the first to feel her wrath. Unfortunately, most of her strength was exhausted and all she could manage was an awkward stumble forward. The sight of her slow advance was more than enough to frighten Thomas, however, and the large man had a difficult time trying to find the bracelet, even with its luminous mantle.

"Thomas!" Piri's voice came from the fog. "Where are you? What's taking so long?"

"She… she's…" the large man stammered, his gaze locked on Alena's menacing form as she drew close. He was not even looking for the bracelet anymore, so horrified all he could manage was random brushes across the grass.

Luck was with him, however, as he soon came across the bracelet. He could sense Alena's shallow breath upon his back and hear her agonizing moan. Thomas did not even pause to thank the Master for his luck as he already felt her deathly gaze penetrating his skin. The large man took off, quickly disappearing into the fog with the bracelet in hand.

"No…" Alena mouthed, too weak to even speak. Every desire within urged her to chase after him, to refuse to give up, but no amount of adrenaline could wash away her growing fatigue. All she could manage right now was a stumble, clearly no match for someone with fresh and terrified legs. The princess fell forward, whimpering in frustration.

Timothy made his way over. "Alena…?" he lightly called out. His voice seemed shallow as well, perhaps due to being kicked in the ribs a few times. "Are you…?"

"Go after them!" she harshly commanded, fury in her eyes. "All three of you! I'll take care of her." She threw a hand in her impostor's direction.

"Alena…" Timothy tried to argue but was immediately cut off.

"What are you waiting for?" she angrily screamed, blood spitting from her mouth. "The longer you're here, the farther they'll get. _Go_, damn it!"

The thief knew it would be futile to pursue and Alena was probably delirious from the blow she suffered. However, he had no desire to invite her wrath at this moment and motioned for the impostor's companions to follow.

Once they were gone, Alena once again mustered her strength to move. She had some business to take care of before they got back.

Wiping the blood from her face, she stumbled over to her impostor, who was lying face down in the mossy ground. Whether she was unconscious or just pretending, Alena could not determine. However, one way or another, her impostor was about to get a very rude awakening.

Alena knelt down and grabbed her impostor's chin in a less-than-gentle manner. "Alright, you bitch!" she nearly screamed. "Wake up! You have some serious explaining…"

Her voice trailed off as a different emotion seemed to take over. Alena finally had a good look at her impostor and she studied her face intently. Although there were some nasty bruises and scars, basic features were still noticeable. Her skin was fair, with tiny freckles around the nose. Rosy dimples were on her face and her eyes were a light blue. She seemed to have the persona of a fairy-tale princess.

In short, she looked _nothing_ like Alena. And for that, Alena could not help but feel strangely disappointed.

The fake princess was whimpering, cringing in fear like a cornered rabbit. Now guilt began to find its way into Alena's senses. This young woman, whoever she was, must have been through a torturous two weeks. First being kidnapped and then Master-knew-what at the hands of her abductors. And now, finally being rescued, a bloody, raging woman screams in her face, practically threatening her life. It was more than anyone could bear, and tears spilled from the fake princess' eyes.

Alena fell back, stunned by her actions. How could she have been so cruel? What would have happened if Brey had done the same thing to her back in Weser, when her mind had been such a fragile state? Perhaps it was already too late for the young woman crying in front of her. Was Alena's anger really worth the sanity of her impostor?

She wiped fresh blood from her face, her shirt now soaked in the warm fluid. "I… I…" she muttered, the words she wanted to say difficult to come out for some reason. Heaving a shuddering sigh, Alena said, "I'm sorry. I… I wasn't thinking. You've been through a lot and I shouldn't have shot at you like that." Her impostor did not seem to adhere to Alena's apology, however, and continued her weeping.

Alena rolled her tongue into her cheek, the taste of her blood evident even there. Was she too late? Had this girl already slipped into insanity? How did Brey deal with this before?

The princess smoothly advanced, gently easing her hand on her impostor's shoulder. She did not jerk away in fear. _Good_, Alena thought. _At least she isn't as bad as I was_.

"What's your name?" she asked.

"Wh…wh…what?"

"Your name," Alena repeated patiently. "What is your name?"

"I… I'm the Princess of…"

Rage suddenly found its way back into Alena's body. _That_ was why she was so angry with her impostor. The very _arrogance_ of pretending to be her, when anyone who knew _anything_ of their country should know she was a fake. No, it was more than that! The very fact the real Princess of Santeem sat in front of her, and _still_ she pretended.

"No, you're _not_!" Alena shouted, slapping her impostor across the face, sending her crumbling into a pitiful, whimpering heap. Guilt started to find its way into Alena's mind again but her rage easily won out the battle. No, she would make her _pay_ for her arrogance.

"Get up, you bitch!" she angrily said. The princess grabbed the whimpering woman's arm and violently yanked her up, very nearly tearing her arm from its socket. A panicked scream escaped the impostor but her companions and Timothy were probably too far away to hear it.

Alena plunked her on her feet and screamed, "_I'm Princess Alena Santeem!_ Now _who_ are _you_?"

"You… I…?" the impostor mumbled, a perplexed look on her face. She looked at the Alena's deathly gaze and knew what would happen if she lied. Her eyes burst into tears.

"You're right!" she wailed pitifully. "I'm not a real Princess. I'm May, an actress from Endor. My father made me do this. He said we'd have a good life if I pretended to be a Princess. I don't want to be a Princess anymore. I want to go home!"

Alena looked at the blubbering actress, a smile unconsciously finding its way onto her bloody lips. It was blatantly apparent this May had suffered in the last while, but _this_ was pathetic. The princess let go of her, allowing her to pitifully fall onto the ground.

May lay there for a moment, whimpering. Eventually, she looked up at Alena, a worried look on her face. "Are… are you… really the Princess?" she asked between sniffles.

Alena wiped her face again, noticing the blood was starting to slow its hasty exit from her nose. "I am," she replied, snorting back some blood. Maybe it was about time to do something about the injury.

The actress stared incredulously. "But… but…" she stammered. She swung an arm at the princess. "You don't look or act like the Princess!"

"And you do," Alena shot back, tilting her head back in an attempt to stop her nose from bleeding. "But that doesn't make _you_ a princess. You of all people should know looks are deceiving."

She knelt down, having to bend sideways a bit to keep in eye contact with her head still tilted. "And don't go around presuming how people are," Alena continued, her voice harsh and icy. "You obviously have _no_ idea what I'm like, and, seeing how the peasants here were so easily fooled, they probably don't either. The way you act, it's completely humiliating to think that's how others perceive me."

"But…"

May was interrupted by the approach of footsteps. She involuntarily cringed back from their direction and Alena took up a defensive stance between them. For all the loathing she felt towards this pathetic, young woman behind her, Alena's conscience just would not allow any more harm to come to her.

"It's only us!" Timothy's voice called out, making sure they would not be mistaken for the kidnappers. The thief and May's companions soon emerged from the fog, their steps heavy and downtrodden.

"Did you…?" Alena started as she raised, her voice trailing upon seeing they were empty handed.

"No, Alena, we didn't," Timothy bitterly replied the unasked question. "I told you it would be pointless, but, _no_! Alena just _can't_ lose. She has too much-"

The thief suddenly stopped his complaining upon seeing May, beaten, bruised, and cringing fearfully. "Your Highness!" he cried, rushing forward. "By the Master, are you all right?"

"What?" the actress stammered, confused by Timothy's gestures.

"Oh, Master!" he breathed, panic crossing his face. The thief turned to her companions and shouted, "Cristo! Brey! She's delusional! Go get help from the Temple, and tell them…"

"What? No, I-"

"You're fine?" Timothy asked, hope in his voice. May meekly nodded, the thief's overbearing concern at least disorientating her. "Oh, thank the Master!" he said, breathing a sigh of relief. He suddenly slapped his forehead. "Where are my manners?" he scolded himself.

Timothy knelt down on one knee, bowing his head. "Your Highness," he said humbly, "it is a great honour to be within your presence. I, Timothy Renes of Bonmalmo, pledge my undying devotion to you and the country you rule."

Alena found an elbow jut in her leg, causing her to momentarily lose her balance as her body's strength was still low. She glared down at Timothy, her penetrating gaze demanding an explanation.

"I don't know what twisted ideas James gives you," he whispered, his head still bowed, "but you _always_ kneel before a monarch. Don't embarrass me, Alena."

She stared incredulously at the thief for a moment but quickly drew her gaze at May. The actress slightly cringed underneath the princess' threatening glare, wondering if she would strike her down where she stood. "Tell him," Alena commanded emotionlessly. "Tell him the truth."

May stared at her for a moment, then to the old man who was Brey's impostor. Her father was obviously going to be upset with her, and might even strike her a few times for spoiling his plans. However, after what she had been through, the actress wanted nothing more than the whole charade to end. Besides, how could she refuse a royal order?

"T…Timothy," she said, finding the courage to speak the truth hard to come by. "I… I'm not really the Princess of Santeem. I'm not the Princess of any country. I'm just an actress. My name's really May." She looked at Alena again, and the princess nodded, urging her to continue. Sighing, May added, "The… real Princess of Santeem is the one beside you."

The thief stared dumbfounded, his gaze alternating between both young women: one bruised and battered, the other covered in dry blood. Eventually, his eyes lit up. "I get it!" he announced. "Alena will pose as your decoy so a similar thing won't happen again. Brilliant!"

Timothy stood up, looking at the princess. "It's a very noble thing of you to do to become something as dangerous as a royal decoy," he said in a somewhat sarcastic tone to her, "even if you _do_ look differently."

"What?" both women said at the same time.

"No, you got it all wrong!" Alena nearly cried out in alarm. "I'm _really_ the Princess. I'm _Princess_ Alena Santeem. She's just an actress pretending to be _me_!"

"You don't need get too involved in your role, Alena," he said bitterly. She could tell he was feeling animosity towards her, believing she stole some of the glory he had sought all this time.

"I'm not acting!" she persisted. "I'm not going to be some damned decoy! I really _am_ the Princess!"

Timothy looked at her, perplexed. "I think that blow may have made you delusional, Alena," he said, concern finding its way into his eyes. He laid a hand on her shoulder and tried to ease her down on the ground.

"I'm _not_ delusional!" she nearly screamed, her frustration at a breaking point. "How many times do I have to say it? _I… am… Princess… Santeem!_ I ran away from-"

"_Damn it, Alena, shut up_!" Timothy yelled at her, stunning the young woman. "You are _not_ the Princess of Santeem! A Princess does _not_ curse every other word! A Princess does _not_ fight with a blood lust. A Princess does _not_ go out adventuring in blood-soaked clothes and weapons. A Princess does _not_ act like such a… a…"

Alena swallowed, her love's words biting into her skin with each breath he took. "Like what…?" she meekly asked.

Timothy frowned, his anger subsiding for the moment. "Does not act like such a tomboy," he replied, his voice calmer. "A Princess is full of dignity and refined attributes. Not _once_ have I ever seen you display such character. So stop your ranting! I can't help it if you are jealous, but pretending to be something you clearly aren't isn't the solution!"

Alena suddenly found her legs weaker than she could have ever imagined. "What did you say?" she asked, her voice catching in her throat as she spoke. For some reason, she found herself looking away, as though his words would only hurt more if she saw them escape his mouth.

The thief frowned, disappointed the young woman had not been able to see it herself. "You're jealous, Alena," he stated flatly. "To come up with such a blatant and obvious lie is not only ridiculous, but also shows just how despicable you are."

An impossible weight landed on the princess and her knees gave out. Tears began to leak from her eyes as she fell to the mossy ground. "But… it's not a lie," she quietly murmured, staring at the moss. Her amounting anguish weighed heavy on her voice. "I really _am_ a Princess. I just…"

Alena's voice trailed off, her thoughts swarming her senses. Timothy was right. _Everything_ anyone of _any_ standing in the world knew what a Princess looked like and how a Princess acted. _Every_ one of those traits, Alena casually discarded without consideration of the consequences. Was this what everyone thought of her? Was she considered a Princess by chance of birth alone? Sure, she did not find much pleasure in performing the traits expected by a Princess, but Alena still felt as much an aristocrat as the next nobleman.

She looked at May. Here was a woman who merely acted the part, yet had an easier time convincing Timothy than all the trust Alena could muster. Was that all it took? Just a pretty dress, make-up, and a monarch persona? If that was the case, and somehow she _did_ convince Timothy who she really was, would he love her as before, or only as a Princess? Her heart argued vehemently the latter would not be the case, that true love could transcend external pretences. Her mind, however, won this argument. The evidence was plainly in front of her. Timothy would go with whoever the real Princess was but only for that reason. True love could not exist, merely physical fascination.

And for that, Alena painfully realized this was going to be her last night with this wondrous and remarkable man. The pain in her chest unbearable, she fell over, heaving deep, shuddering sobs as she did not even have the strength to cry.

Timothy looked down at her, guilt unconsciously finding its way into his mind. However, his growing disgust for the display Alena exhibited at his feet only pushed such feelings aside.

He turned to May, laying a hand on her shoulder. "Your Highness," he said. "Please forgive my companion. We have some… business… to take care of before we leave."

"We?" the actress repeated, still confused by Timothy's behavior.

The thief smiled knowingly. "It would honor me, your Highness," he explained, "if you would be generous enough to allow me into your party. I have in my possession a wagon fit for travel. Within is an abundance of wealth, meager by your noble standards, no doubt, but worthy nonetheless to make myself acceptable as a part of your party. I only need to find another brahmird, an easy enough task. We can then be on our way this very night to avoid a public scene such as when you first arrived. That is, if it is within your gracious heart to accept me, your Highness."

"But, I…"

"You don't have to answer now," Timothy was quick to politely interrupt. He gently moved May in front of him and towards her companions. "Wait for me at the stables. There you can confer with your escorts and see for yourself what I have to offer. I will join with you shortly."

Dumbfounded, May stared at the thief as she was being pushed but did not prod the subject. She desperately wanted to explain it all to the thief but he seemed to refuse to hear. Now her father would undoubtedly demand an explanation for the events that had transpired. He would also continue to keep up the charade, using the poor man for his wealth until they reached more populated areas. May despised his way of thinking, but she feared the lashings more.

As she made her way to her father and his accomplice, May looked back at the heartbroken Alena. The actress' expression spoke, "I'm _so_ sorry," but she knew no amount of apology could help heartache. She had done all she could for the princess: she told the truth. It was up to Timothy to believe it and, sadly, he had failed.

Timothy's gaze followed May's departure with her companions, holding it even after they disappeared into the mist. "I'll leave one third of my wealth with Old Goat at the inn, as promised," the thief said mechanically. "You'd be best to collect it before he decides to keep it for himself."

If Alena heard him, she made no recognition of it, her painful sobbing causing her whole body to curl up in sorrow-filled spasms.

Letting out a guilty sigh, Timothy knelt down, trying to get into the princess' eyes. "It's not too late for you," he said, trying to sound optimistic. He placed a tender hand on her shoulder. "You could probably still come with us if you apologize for your remarks earlier."

Alena looked up, a tiny glimmer of hope shining through the tears in her eyes. Yes, it could work! She could keep the charade up, perhaps even pretend to be May's decoy. That way, she could still be with Tim and…

…And watch him shower attention on that damned actress! No, she could not bear to see that. One night was hard enough as it was. Alena knew she would not be able to take such rejection repeatedly.

She looked away. "No, Tim," she quietly replied, her voice shuddering. The princess removed his hand. "I… couldn't live with myself if I did."

The thief frowned. "Very well," he said, standing up. "I bid you farewell, Alena Sanouch. May the Master watch over your travels with good fortune." At that, Timothy started to walk away.

_ No!_ Alena's mind raged furiously. _It can't end! Not like this! There has to be a way!_

"Tim!" Alena called out, causing the thief to pause in mid-step.

"Yes?" he said quietly.

The princess was quiet for a moment, trying to choose her words carefully. She had to make this count. It would either cure her ailing heart, or doom her to despair. "Did you… ever love me?" she asked timidly.

Timothy was quiet for several long seconds. "No," he replied without looking.

"But… but what we shared…!" Alena cried, her heart unable to believe his response. "By the pool! What of that…?"

"I shared your lust," he explained, his head slightly turned to see her anguished face, "but not your love. You'd be wise to learn the difference between the two." The thief then disappeared into the mist.

"No…" Alena said, her voice cracking. "No! Why? Why can't you believe me, Tim? _Why_?" However, no response would be forthcoming. Her body unable to take the strain of heartache any longer, the princess collapsed, her agonizing tears watering the moss beneath.

Crying, she lay there. Time was fleeting as all she knew was deep misery. So absorbed in her own anguish, Alena never knew another figure had entered the graveyard as she cried.

"It okay to cry," he said, his voice sympathetic. "People always cry here. Cry for me dead, they do. So you can cry here, too."

And the short, dirty man vigilantly watched over Alena, allowing her to shed her sorrow into the misty night.


	15. Chapter 14: Alena's Mourning

Chapter 14: Alena's Mourning

Brey woke up with a start, gasping for air. His eyes were wide with fear and the cool night air did little to prevent his profuse sweating. The old tutor winced, the numb pain in his shoulder wound unrelenting. None of the healing the priest at this temple seemed to have helped much. Sure, little more than scars remained and when the priest cast his healing spells, most of the pain seemed to disappear.

However, the pain had emerged again, just as before. Why should it do that? For all the skepticism Brey put on Zenithism, he could not refute their arcane practices. Their magic was genuine as the old tutor had experienced it many times before. So why did the pain in his shoulder persist?

Sighing, Brey lay back down on the bed. Deep down, he knew the reason - his pride was just too stubborn to accept it. He was afraid. Crested vipers continued to stalk him and tear apart his limbs in gratuitous and ravenous detail in his dreams. The pain of their teeth sinking into his flesh burned within his memories.

He could not go the rest of his life fearing the shadows surrounding him yielded one of the deadly serpents, ready to spring forth the moment he let his guard down. He was going to have to overcome this apprehension.

Brey closed his eyes, hoping to fall into a dreamless sleep. After a while, he realized it was futile. Although his mind insisted the vipers were not there, the old tutor could not help but fear the shadows were hiding them. He could see he was not going to get any sleep this night. Giving up, the old tutor got out of the bed and grabbed the new walking staff the priest had provided for him. Perhaps some fresh air would do him some good.

The old tutor made his way from the dormitory and entered the main hall of the temple. His stay was temporary at best. The priest had not been overly keen on allowing Cristo and him to remain here. Without any apprentices or clerics to help him, the priest did not have the resources to accommodate two travelers, much less four once Alena and Timothy returned. No, they would undoubtedly end up at the _Frenor's Finest Inn_ until they decided to leave the town.

As he entered the main hall, Brey noticed someone was sitting on one of the benches, his head buried in his hands and his shoulders lightly bobbing up and down. At first, the old tutor found it odd to find anyone up so late and at the temple. It did not take him long to realize it was Cristo, though. _Probably repenting_, he thought distastefully.

Still, although Brey had known Cristo sometimes repented late at night, he never knew the bodyguard to cry when asking forgiveness for his sins. On their journey back to Frenor, the old tutor _had_ noticed a pained look in Cristo's eyes but he had merely dismissed it, as the entire group seemed to have a somber mood about. Apparently his grief was deeper than Brey realized, but what could possibly be ailing the bodyguard to keep him awake this late?

Brey's curiosity began to eliminate his fear of crested vipers in dark shadows. Perhaps it would be a good idea to engage Cristo. Anything to take his mind off his own worries could only help the old tutor. "Cristo?" he lightly called out, his voice echoing off the hollow, stone walls of the temple.

The bodyguard instantly bolted up, rubbing his eyes in an attempt to hide his tears. "Brey!" he said, startled. "What are you doing up so late?"

The old tutor smiled. Now _that_ sounded like the old Cristo. Whatever was ailing the bodyguard seemed to have eliminated his recent pompous attitude.

"Funny," Brey said, hobbling over to sit on the same bench. "I was about to ask you the same thing. But since you asked first, I guess I'll answer first. I had trouble sleeping; bad nightmares." He paused, looking coyly at the bodyguard. "Now your turn."

Cristo looked at him for a moment, unsure of what to say. Brey had never been able to understand his faith in Zenithism and his love for Master Dragon. Always the old tutor would attack his religion, find fault in it, and deny the Master's very existence. How could _he_ help? Still, he felt the need to share his grief with someone, even though Brey was not the best candidate.

Bluntly, but mournfully, the bodyguard replied, "Master Dragon has utterly abandoned me." He then looked away, ashamed to let Brey see his tears rim his eyes.

"What?" the old tutor said, his eyes wide with disbelief.

Cristo meekly nodded. "It's been happening ever since we were in the cave," he explained. "First to go was my magic. I could not even perform the simplest healing spell to save your life. I thought it was a sign of the Master's abandonment, denying me access to the magic of Zenithia. But Alena had pointed out all my powers were not lost. I could still sense the evil presence of the vipers as we made our way back and the evil of orcs would still sting my mind if they drew close."

Cristo paused, taking in a shuddering, deep breath. "But now," he continued, "the Master has taken from me even this rare gift. The evil of the vipers no longer burns in my soul. Even when I brought you here, within the ambient goodness of this temple, their evil still tugged at me. But now, I can no longer feel their presence. This wondrous gift Master Dragon gave me is gone, along with the rest of my powers as punishment for my sins."

Brey rubbed his white whiskers for a moment. Cristo's story was indeed tragic, from a Zenithist standpoint anyway. Something did not quite make sense, though. Not once had the old tutor heard of a scenario where _any_ cleric would completely lose their powers. Generally, once a Zenithist gained the ability to cast clerical magic, it would remain with them until death.

A thought came to the old tutor's mind and he decided to put his suspicion to the test. "Cristo," he said, "why didn't you have the priest here heal your hand?"

The bodyguard frowned. "I've decided to let the wound remain," he replied forlornly, gingerly touching the burnt skin. "As a reminder of my failure."

"Heal it," Brey commanded emotionlessly.

Cristo looked at him, confused. "What?"

"You heard me," Brey said, crossing his arms. "I want to see just how your healing magic is ineffective."

The bodyguard stared at the old tutor for a moment. He was stunned Brey could exhibit such coldness when he was pouring his soul onto him. Still, if a demonstration was what it would take to convince the non-believer, so be it.

Cristo drew within his soul, calling forth the magical abilities he had so often used before. He silently prayed to Master Dragon, begging for forgiveness. He placed his hand over his burnt palm and chanted, "Heal!" He felt the powers within curse through his fingertips. He felt everything as before when he had attempted to heal the wound.

Only this time, a warm sensation washed over his open palm, taking in the white energy greedily as the scars turned from a blistered red to bright pink.

"How…?" was all Cristo was able to say, staring dumbfounded at Brey.

"I'd say you've been forgiven," the old tutor smiled.

The bodyguard looked at his palm for long moments. "But… what of my other powers?" He looked back at Brey, his eyes pleading. "Why can I no longer feel the presence of the vipers?"

"Your evil-sensing powers are probably still there," he replied, standing up. He put a reassuring hand on the bodyguard's shoulder. "The vipers have undoubtedly finally given up their chase. Even aggressive creatures like them wouldn't come close to a populated centre like Frenor."

A smile found its way onto Cristo's face, something that had been missing for a few days. "Thank you, Brey," he said sincerely.

The old tutor returned the smile to his friend. "You'd better get some rest," he said. "It's late as it is." Cristo nodded and made his way to the dormitory the priest had provided for him.

_And thank you, Cristo_, Brey thought, smiling as he watched the bodyguard leave. The fact Cristo no longer felt the presence of the vipers had lifted a crushing weight off the old tutor's chest. He could at least no longer fear the shadows. Perhaps he could even get some peaceful sleep tonight.

As he made his way back to his dormitory, he heard the wooden doors of the temple's entrance creek open. Brey instinctively jumped out of surprise but regained his composure quickly enough. The dull light of a torch filtered into the temple, followed by a single figure. It took only a second for the old tutor to know who it was at the wooden doors.

"Alena," he said, breathing out a sigh of relief as his silly fear of serpents had tricked him. "It's only you. How did the…"

Brey's voice trailed off, the old tutor sucking in his breath as the torch she carried revealed her full form. Blood streaked across the lower half of her face and stained her sleeves. Her eyes were sunken deep, ringed with dark circles of despair. It seemed as though an impossible weight was attached to each foot, making each step unbearably painful to take.

"By the Master!" the old tutor breathed. He hobbled over to her as fast as his aged legs could carry him. The princess collapsed into his arms as he reached her but her weight was more than he could bear and they ungracefully fell over. Brey managed to untangle them and prop Alena in front of him. He grabbed her torch, making sure it did not catch fire on the wooden benches around them. It would be really stupid if Alena had survived whatever had happened to her only to be burned alive in an accident.

With her in front of him, Brey was able to get a good look at the princess. She had been crying, that much was evident. The salty stains of tears streaked across her bloody cheeks. Her sorrow was still apparent as she sniffled with shuddering sobs. What had caused this, though, Brey had no idea.

"Alena," he gently asked, caressing her lengthening matted hair. "What happened? Who did this to you?"

"Tim…" she murmured forlornly, her eyes fixed on nothing in particular. Only then did Brey notice the thief was missing.

"What about him?" the old tutor pressed further. "Did something happen to him? Where is he?"

Alena finally looked at her tutor, tears already rimming her pain-filled eyes. "He… he left me," she cried, her body heaving uncontrollably. "He left me for her! He… didn't… even… care…!" The princess fell forward, wrapping her arms around her stunned tutor as she wailed onto his shoulders.

Brey awkwardly put his arms around her, gently rubbing her back. Her outside scars were superficial. Alena's pain was from within, from a torn heart. No amount of curative magic even the mightiest bishop could cast would ease this torment.

The old tutor heard Cristo come out of his dormitory. "Brey!" the bodyguard called out. "Is everything all right? I heard… by the Master! What happened?"

Brey frowned. _No sleep tonight_, he thought mournfully.

* * *

The three travelers made their way down the misty, dark streets of Frenor, Cristo and Brey helping the doleful Alena make her steps. A chill, moist air made them shiver uncomfortably, even drawing the odd sneeze from the old tutor.

He would have much rather remained at the temple to help Alena through her misery. However, the priest forced them to leave, claiming he did not have the rooms to accommodate three people. Brey could tell the priest was lying but did not press the issue. He was far too tired to argue tonight.

With no co-operation from the grumpy priest, they were forced to vacate the temple's premises. _Frenor's Finest Inn_ was not too far from the temple but navigating in the gloomy night was not an easy task, especially for foreigners. The travelers still eventually found their way though, and, upon seeing the inn, Alena immediately said, "Quick! We still might be able to catch him. He still might be at the stables. Let go of me! I have to know! Let _go_ of me, damn it!"

"A…Alena," Brey said, trying his hardest to restrain the struggling princess. She was putting up a difficult fight, though, even with his and Cristo's combined efforts. "Calm yourself, Princess. _Cristo_ will go and see if Tim is still here. If he is, then _Cristo_ will bring him to see you. Okay?" At that, the old tutor nodded at Cristo and the bodyguard nodded in return. In an instant, he was off.

Brey watched Cristo disappear into the mist before he turned back to Alena. "There, you see," he said, smiling cheerfully. "It will be taken care of. Right now we should be concerned about getting you inside. It's been a long night and I think it would be best if we all got a good night's sleep. Okay?"

He gently grabbed her chin and turned her head into his gaze. Alena could not help but smile as well upon seeing her old tutor's optimistic face. "Okay," she quietly said, slightly nodding.

Satisfied the princess would not make another attempt to find Timothy, Brey turned to the inn's door and hefted his walking staff up. He began to bang on the door's wooden surface relentlessly, causing a ruckus the whole Frenorian valley could have heard. It only took a few minutes of this before a lock on the inside of the inn's entrance began to rattle. The door swung open and revealed one of the innkeeper's large, muscled bodyguards. Brey did not know if this giant was one of the ones he encountered before or not. They all looked alike in the old tutor's eyes: all muscles and no brains.

Although the muscled man wore simple sleeping clothes, his physical stature was no less intimidating. An angry glare bore down on the old tutor, promising instant death. "Knock it off, y' bugger!" he roared, "Can't y' see we're… oh!" His eyes suddenly lit up, a frightened gaze replacing the raging glare. "Y…you're…" he stuttered, pointing a finger nervously at Brey.

The old tutor smiled fiendishly. At least the ogre remembered _him_. "Take us to…" He paused, forgetting the innkeeper's name. He turned to Alena and asked, "What did Tim call him?"

"Old… Goat…?" she replied at length, her voice somber.

Brey smiled and turned back to the muscled man. "Take us to Old Goat!" he commanded, jutting his walking staff into the man's large chest. "At once!"

"Y…yes, sir," he replied, nodding hastily. The muscled man opened the door to let in Alena and Brey. He then motioned them to follow him through the inn.

Soon they arrived at a door in a hallway, the very same door Timothy had confronted the innkeeper the night of May's abduction. The muscled man nervously knocked on the door. A muffled but disturbed, "What?" came from within.

"There's someone here to see you, s…sir," the man replied. The uneasiness in his voice caused Brey to stare at him in amazement. He would have thought a man as large as this would have more courage than what he was displaying.

"I said I didn't want to be disturbed," was the response from inside the room.

"S…sir," the muscled man persisted. "It's them. That thief's friends."

Silence hung in the air for a moment before the door bolted open, a startled expression on the innkeeper's old, scrawny face. "Master James!" he blurted out, a touch of fear on his words. "Y…you actually live! Timothy said you were…"

"Skip the small talk, you sniveling weasel," Brey scowled, trying his best to hide his amused smile. He found he could grow to like acting the ill-tempered wizard Timothy had established as his character. "I came here to talk business, not of my miraculous survival."

"Yes, yes, of course!" Old Goat said, bowing his head with word. In a flash, he disappeared into his room. Seconds later, he re-emerged, carrying a fair-sized bag bulging at its seams. "Here you go, Master James," he said, handing the bag over. "I, uh, was just counting it over for you. Making sure that thief didn't try to swindle you or nothing."

"I… I'm sure," Brey said, taking the bag. Since Alena had not mentioned Timothy would leave a third of his valuables for them, the old tutor was unable to contain a bewildered look on his face as he took the bag. There was a stunned silence for a moment but Brey recovered before the innkeeper could catch his confusion.

"There's one more thing we'll be needing from you, Old Goat," the old tutor said, a malicious smile on his face. The innkeeper visibly flinched at the use of the nickname but nodded, knowing it would not be wise to anger the wizard who caused his skin to shrivel. "Accommodations," Brey continued. He paused, then added with a smile, "The room the Princess was staying in was nice."

"Yes, of course!" Old Goat said, still bowing his head with every word. "I'll take you there myself if you'd be generous enough to follow me."

Brey nodded and allowed the innkeeper to lead him through the building. Once they reached the room, Old Goat unlocked the door and swung it open for them. "Nice and tidy, sir," he said, feebly smiling.

"I'm sure," Brey mumbled, keeping a threatening glare fixed on the man. The old tutor reached into the bag, feeling for some inexpensive but impressive bauble. He pulled out a goblet studded with small emeralds and sapphires. "Here," he said, handing it over to Old Goat. "This will be our payment for the remainder of our stay. Any questions?"

The innkeeper's eyes lit up. "No, sir!" he replied anxiously. "Thank you, sir!" At that, he scurried away, already caressing the goblet like a new born child. Brey stared at Old Goat as he disappeared, amazed by the level of greed some people displayed over the tiniest possessions.

The old tutor shook his head. His mind was straying when there were more important things at hand. Brey helped Alena inside and guided her to one of the bedchambers. There, he eased her onto the large bed, letting her lie down on her side. Brey smiled, gently stroking her matted, dirty hair. He noticed it was finally catching up with its original length. While not quite shoulder-length, it had at least retained the fullness it once had. She seemed so calm right now, so peaceful. It would be simple enough to tuck her in, kiss her goodnight, and let everything that occurred this evening be forgotten in dreamless sleep.

He looked at her for a while, watching as she curled up into a comfortable position and putting her tiny hands underneath her cheeks. He could tell she was almost at the point of sleep, the night's exhaustion finally catching up as her breathing became easy and her side moved up and down rhythmically. Her face tried to hide her emotions right now, but her eyes betrayed her feelings. Her pain was still deeply eating away at her soul. If not taken care of right away, a state of depression could set in permanently. It would not be the best situation for a future monarch.

The old tutor pulled up a chair, sitting down on it. "How are you feeling?" he asked, leaning forward.

"Better," she replied with a deep sigh.

"Do you want to talk about it at all?"

"Not really."

A small frown found its way on Brey's face. She was avoiding her pain, letting it fester inside. He needed to bring it out somehow.

He forced a smile. "I guess now would be a bad time to tell you I was right, wouldn't it," he said, intending it for it to be a small joke. Alena gave him a dangerous glare, silently telling her tutor she got the joke but it was far from funny. "I'm sorry," he sincerely apologized, looking down shamefully. "Bad humor on my part."

The princess turned around, away from her tutor. "I'd like to be left alone, Brey," she quietly said.

He frowned again. This was not good. Solitude would only allow her depression to accumulate. However, the tone of her voice indicated her words were not intended as a request nor a favor; more like an order than anything else. Realizing there was nothing he would be able to do for her this night, the old tutor rose from his seat, patted her head, and made his way to the door.

Before he opened it though, the old tutor could already hear faint sobs from the bed. Brey paused, his hand frozen on the handle. This was not right. He could not just leave her here to wallow in her misery by herself. There had to be something he could do for her.

After a moment's thought, only one thing came to mind. Unfortunately, it would not be pleasant for either of them. Indeed, Brey could already see the short-term outcome of his actions. However, if this was what it was going to take for her to bring out and confront her pain, so be it.

"Alena," he said, turning to her. "Tell me, was it worth it?"

The princess paused in her crying, looking up with tear-rimmed eyes. "What?" she said weakly.

"Was it worth it?" Brey repeated, intentional coldness in his voice. "You were broken and beaten numerous times, I was very nearly killed, and Cristo went through one of the most traumatic experiences he's ever known, all so you could sate your curiosity."

A blank expression found its way onto Alena's face as she stared dumbfounded at the floor. "W…what?" was all she managed to say.

"You heard me," Brey said, a bit of buried frustration finding its way into his voice. "I told you about it from the very beginning. I saw it in you when you first made your way through that mob. It became an obsession for you to sate your curiosity, to see how one person could convincingly impersonate you. You had to see her for yourself, to satisfy your curiosity, and you were willing to risk all of our lives. I hoped you would have realized it for yourself, but I guess I was wrong. Now, I'll ask you again. Was it worth it?"

Alena began to shudder. "How dare you…" she muttered, her voice shaking. However, it was not shaking with sorrow anymore, but with anger.

She looked up, her eyes meeting with her tutor. Brey unconsciously took a step back. He had seen those eyes all too often, usually followed by unpleasant events. "How _dare_ you!" she repeated, her teeth clenching as her voice rose. "My very soul is torn, and you have the _impudence_ to bring _this_ up! My heart is in more pain than I've _ever_ known, and you don't show the _slightest_ concern for my well-being!"

"Alena, I…"

"_Get out_!" she screamed, throwing a pillow at Brey. The old tutor easily dodged and tried to speak again. Seeing he was not moving, Alena bolted across the bed and leapt at him. "I said _get out_!" she screamed again, absolute animosity controlling her actions.

Brey fumbled with the door, reeling backwards as it swung open. He fell on the wooden floor, but his fright washed away any pain he would have received. "Alena!" he said, holding his hands up. "Princess! Stop! Don't do anything rash! I'm sorry!" He could tell she was beyond reason, though. The fury inside her was in total control, and nothing would be spared until it passed, including her closest friends.

Brey feebly scrambled backwards, trying his hardest to stay out of her reach. He ducked behind a small table but Alena merely tossed it out of her way. "Alena, please!" he said, his hands feebly ready to block any forthcoming blows. "Think about what you're doing!"

"It's too late for apologizing, old man!" she spat with ire and lunged forward, easily grabbing him by his shirt. Brey tried to wrestle free but the princess' iron grip was firm. She forced him to the door, throwing aside any furniture in her way. Swinging the door open, Alena tossed Brey outside, the old tutor smashing against the wall opposite the room. He was able to recover from the blow in time to see the door slam shut.

Moaning, Brey slowly got up. The most he had expected was a spiteful argument. He had figured Alena's heartache would have subdued her tendency to go berserk. It was not his best judgment call, to say the least.

He hobbled over to the door and tried to turn the knob. Locked. "Alena?" he called out, hoping she would hear him. His only response was the sound of chairs being thrown against walls and screams of fury. Brey shook his head, leaning against the door. He could be no more disgusted with himself and his lack of tact.

"Brey," Cristo's voice came from down the hall. The old tutor turned his attention there, seeing a stunned expression on the bodyguard's face. Cristo was about to ask what was happening but, seeing Brey's overwrought face and hearing the noise from inside the room, he quickly had his answer.

"I think we're going to have to get our own room," Brey remarked dryly, rubbing the back of his neck.

* * *

Cristo sat at a small, round table, sipping on his wine slowly. It was not the greatest tasting wine he had ever drunk and the price of it was outrageous, but then it was to be expected from such a remote village. The bodyguard figured Frenor did not have any trading ties with Bonmalmo, perhaps the finest provider of wines throughout the world. If not, they would have to make their wine, and Santeem's inhabitants, especially those stuck this far from civilization, were not reputed as great wine-makers.

He leaned back, taking in the sounds of Frenor's eatery. It was a modest place to be, sweet aromas of basted meats wafting from the kitchen and bitter scents of alcohol throughout the rest of the building. It was fairly empty right now, only a few regulars and friends making their social rounds. Apparently the place would be packed during the summer months, when merchants from all over the coast would peddle their wares in Frenor. Still, that was another month away, and Cristo enjoyed the quiet ambience this eatery was providing.

He leaned back, taking in a bit of the conversation of a nearby group. Someone's field was not yielding the crops he had hoped for, apparently. Now his friends were giving advice, even encouragement. A joke was shared at the expense of the unfortunate farmer, but they all shared a good laugh anyway.

Cristo smiled, leaning forward again. It all seemed so trivial now, everyone's day to day lives. Sure, someone was bound to suffer this winter if their harvest failed and, as a Zenithian, the bodyguard would have normally felt sorry for the farmer, perhaps even give him a little prayer to help him out. However, Cristo's feelings were completely detached from such suffering now. It was not that he did not care, rather he just felt it was unimportant in the grand scheme of things.

Something profound was taking place, and Cristo's very soul was convinced he had something to do with it. Why else would he now have these wonderful powers at his disposal? The bodyguard was clueless as to what it was, though. He had talked it over with the priest at Frenor's temple, even cast 'Surround' to prove it. From the first time they had met, the priest had felt the power within Cristo, even marveled at how such a young Zenithist held it. However, his jealousy was also blatantly apparent. Indeed, who would not be jealous of a novice granted the power someone dedicated rightfully deserved. The priest's jealousy made him less than helpful, to say the least.

It did not matter, anyway. If Master Dragon had chosen him, then He would reveal Cristo's destiny when He felt it appropriate, not any time sooner. In the meantime, the bodyguard decided to continue his studies as before, perhaps even discovering more spells as he had with 'Surround'.

He lifted the goblet to his mouth again, suddenly realizing its contents were empty. Cristo frowned, slowly standing up. While most of the world's troubles no longer mattered to him, empty wine goblets would still remain priorities when out for a social drink. Sighing, he walked over to the bar, asking for a refill. When the bartender returned with a full goblet, Cristo asked for the time. When he received his answer, the bodyguard nodded, thanked him, and went back to his table.

He took another sip before he let a small frown form. Brey was late. They had agreed to meet here right after the evening sermon at the temple to discuss what they were going to do about Alena. This would be the third night since the Princess had locked herself in the room at the inn. No one had been in and she had not come out. Their only reassurance she was even still alive was the odd cry of despair or scream of rage, followed by some sort of furniture being thrown.

Although her misery did not seem to have much effect on Cristo, the bodyguard still knew his duty, and still considered her a friend, even though she would probably have no real bearing on future events. If he was ever to leave this town, he was going to have to make sure the Princess was well and safe before his conscience would allow him to leave. For now, he felt it necessary to remain with his companions, at least until they returned home where he could seek better guidance at the temple in Surene.

The sound of a walking staff tapping rhythmically on the eatery's wooden floor interrupted Cristo's thoughts. He turned his attention to the entrance, finding Brey hurriedly making his way to the bodyguard's table. "You're late," he remarked dryly as the old tutor sat down.

"Sorry," Brey mumbled, waving a hand for a serving wench. Once he ordered for a stein of cold ale, he turned back to his companion. "Old Goat had a little chat with me before I could make it here."

"Oh?"

Brey nodded. "Apparently he's not too pleased about the situation."

"I'd imagine not," Cristo said, sipping on his wine.

"Well, it goes a little further than what you think, I'm afraid," Brey said. The serving girl returned with his ale and he asked her, "What's good to eat here, my dear?"

"I'd recommend the roast brahmird basted in lemon and oregano, sir," she replied.

The old tutor slightly shuddered, the thought of eating one of the stupid beasts unsettling. "Just bring me some spiced potatoes," he said, waving her off. The serving girl tilted her head and rushed off.

Brey emptied a quarter of the stein's contents before continuing. "Apparently, the innkeeper decided to take the matter into his own hands," he explained. "Sent a couple of his goons into the room to force Alena out. Not the best idea, given the state she's in."

"What happened?"

"They're lucky enough to alive, to say the least," Brey replied grimly. "Remember the innkeeper in Weser?" Cristo nodded. "Something similar to that."

The bodyguard sucked in his breath. It was almost impossible to believe inside that tiny, fragile form lurked such savagery if provoked.

"So, Old Goat was not very happy about it," Brey continued, now sipping from his stein. "We talked for a while but he more or less said this: either we get Alena out of the building tonight, or else he is going to call upon the lord of Frenor and get soldiers to intervene. I know the Princess is tough, particularly in the state she's in right now, but I don't think even _she_ can defeat armed soldiers, especially when they have orders to go for the kill."

Cristo nodded, understanding the ramifications of Brey's words. They were going to have to confront the Princess and, with her mind bent on destruction, they would be putting their own lives in danger. "Do you have any ideas on how we should proceed?"

"Nothing that'll work for certain, I'm afraid," the old tutor frowned.

The serving girl returned, a hot plate full of aromatic potatoes in one hand. "Here you are, sir," she said, tilting her head as she put the plate on the table.

"Thanks," Brey said indifferently. The serving girl bowed and left the two men alone to attend to other patrons. The old tutor poked at his food for a while, taking only tiny bites. While the potatoes certainly smelled delicious and made his mouth slightly water, his worries made him less than hungry.

"She's been completely cut off from the rest of the world," the old tutor continued. "I fear she could be sinking deeper and deeper into a state of insanity with her lack of human contact."

"Have you tried to talk with her at all?" Cristo asked.

Brey nodded. "I've hardly left the room's door," he replied. "I've constantly been trying to talk with her, constantly apologizing for myself, praying I might be able break that wall between insanity and rationality." The old tutor paused, looking down on his potatoes with distress in his gaze. "But if what she did to those men today is any testament, I haven't been successful, perhaps even pushing her further."

Cristo almost smiled. For as long he knew Brey, the bodyguard would rarely see such guilt. Somehow, despite the circumstances, it was refreshing to see humility in the old tutor's face.

"I think I still might be able to reach her, though," he said at length, looking back up. "Before she locked herself in, Alena tossed me out, as if she wanted to make sure she wouldn't do anything rash with me before she completely lost it."

"What are you saying, then?"

"She's still in there," Brey replied. "Underneath all that savagery and fury, Alena's common sense is still there. We just need something to bring it out again."

"And I take it you feel a face to face confrontation is the only way," Cristo concluded.

Brey nodded. "I've helped her before, so she should be able to recognize me." He paused, his guilt resurfacing. "Besides, this whole thing is my fault, anyway. I'm the one who pushed her limits, so I should be the one to confront her. Your part will be to help me should things get ugly." Cristo nodded, fully agreeing with Brey's logic.

After finishing and paying for their meals, the two men made their way back to _Frenor's Finest Inn_. They explained their plan to Old Goat, who seemed all too happy with it. In his view, either the berserk woman would finally be gone, or the old man who had unleashed her would be slaughtered. Either way, the innkeeper would benefit. Old Goat gave them the key to the room, deciding to wait downstairs. After what Alena did to his bodyguards, the innkeeper had no desire to be anywhere near the dangerous young woman.

Taking the key, Cristo and Brey went up to the room, stopping outside the locked door. The old tutor was hesitant to proceed, knowing how dangerous Alena was right now. Still, he had to have enough faith the Princess would not harm him if she recognized him in order for his plan to succeed. He just hoped she was not so far gone that simple recognition was beyond her.

Brey decided to try talking through the door before he went in. It would probably be futile since it was the same thing he had been doing the last two days, but it would be good to try anyway.

"Alena?" he gently called out, knocking on the door. "Can you hear me? It's Brey." The room remained quiet. Could she be asleep? No, like a wild animal, the slightest sound would awaken her into instinctive defense. If she had been asleep, the Princess would be awake now.

"Alena," he continued, his voice doleful. "I know I've said this many times before but you have to believe me when I tell you this. Honestly, from the bottom of my heart, I am so very sorry for what I said to you before. I was completely and utterly out of line. I had no right to bring that subject up with you being heartbroken. I…"

He paused, sighing as he slightly looked away from the door. "I just didn't know of any other way to help you," he said. "Seeing your heart torn, hearing your cries of despair, all I knew was I wanted to help you. The only way I thought I could was by getting your emotions out instead of letting you bury them. I failed miserably, though. I guess that's why I became a scholar instead of a counselor." He forced a chuckle, hoping it would bring a smile to whatever Alena's face beheld. However, no sound could be heard from within.

"Alena," he said at length, his voice becoming serious. "I'm coming in, okay? We have to talk, face to face. I'm opening the door, all right?" He heard no reply, though Brey did not expect one. Sighing, the old tutor pulled out the key and put into the lock.

His eyes widened as the key flew from his grasp, still in the lock. The door had opened on him even though he had not turned the key yet. He looked up, coming face to face with Alena. Her clothes were splattered with blood and her fingers were ravaged, bits of skin hanging loosely from their tips.

Brey's attention was almost immediately brought to the top of her head, though. Gone was the fullness he had patted lovingly only a few nights ago. It had all been cut off, her hair back to its former, short length. It was not a very neat job, though, as longer tufts of auburn hair stuck out in various areas of her scalp.

He did not concentrate long on her lack of hair, as he knew where he should be looking. He expected eyes of deep seeded hatred, filled with such loathing as she would mercilessly kill her old tutor without a second thought. However, no such emotion was apparent. In fact, Brey could not find _any_ emotion behind her delicate orbs.

The princess looked down on him, her face devoid of consciousness and giving no clue of her feelings. Brey swallowed nervously. Uncontrolled rage, anguished sorrow, perhaps even a small sign of her good-natured spirit was all things the old tutor had expected. However, he had not foreseen a blank expression. What could he say to this?

"A…Alena…" he said, finding difficulty keeping his voice steady underneath her uncharacteristic gaze. "I… don't know how to… to…"

"You don't need to apologize, Brey," she said, her voice showing no hint of rage or despair. "You were right."

"W…what?" the old tutor stammered. The shock of Alena apparently in control of her emotions took him by surprise.

"You were right, Brey," she repeated, placing her hands on his shoulders. If her fingers held any pain, she certainly did not show it. "I've… had time to think about what you said to me. And I realized you were right, and I was the one that was out of line."

"Alena…" Brey said, gently removing her hands. He studied her for a moment, trying to find any trace of her former fury or suffering.

The princess realized what her tutor was doing and slightly turned her head away. "After what I did to those two men earlier today," she said, "I think my mind snapped back, the shock of what I was doing hitting me harder than your words." She closed her eyes, guilt etched across her face.

Brey frowned, finding the words to express his thoughts difficult to come by. He wanted to encourage her somehow, to bring some optimism back into her soul. How could anyone accomplish this, though, especially since the guilt of her earlier actions clearly weighing heavy on her conscious.

He gently took her chin to turn her head back. "Alena," he said, "I feel it is safe to say we are all to blame. No one factor can ever contribute to something as profound as what you have gone through." He grabbed her arm, squeezing it tightly. "For whatever my part in it is, I am truly sorry for it."

"Princess," Cristo's voice came as he approached the two. Alena looked to her bodyguard. "This has happened many times before. Someone is hurt, sometimes even killed, due to your uncontrollable rage. Whenever you realize the implications of it, you grow guilty, and let this emotion consume you until we are able to help it subside."

"What are you trying to say, Cristo?" Brey said angrily. The bodyguard's voice seemed to have a lecturing tone to it, and talking in such a manner could not be good for Alena, in _any_ state she may be.

Cristo ignored the old tutor and placed a reassuring hand on the princess' shoulder. "You seem to be past the guilt," he said, a recently rare smile coming to his face. "The way I see it, doing this without our help is a major accomplishment."

Alena did not smile but Brey saw her eyes shine in thanks for the praise her bodyguard gave her. "I just had to face the fact that it's a part of who I am," she said evenly. "I can't promise it won't happen again but I feel I will be able to keep it somewhat in check, not let it control my actions."

Brey looked intently at her before asking, "You're all right, then?"

The princess closed her eyes and nodded. "Yes," she replied. Alena paused, looking down at her tortured fingers as the pain in them seemed to become apparent in her face. "Well…"

"I'm sure Cristo help you there," Brey smiled, looking at the bodyguard.

Cristo did not even need to be asked as he immediately cast some curative magic on the princess' fingers. The skin found its way back into place, bright, pink lines marking the previous laceration. The left side of Alena's lips rose as she turned her gaze to her bodyguard. "Your magic's returned, I see," she remarked.

Cristo merely nodded. "Yes, it has," was all he said about it.

As the bodyguard did his work, Brey peaked inside the room, curious of the destruction left by Alena's fury he heard for two days. Furniture lay broken and scattered throughout, very little of its luxurious history left. Chunks of the stone walls were seemingly gouged out and the few windows the room had were left with jagged bits of broken glass. "I don't think Old Goat is going to be pleased about seeing this," the old tutor remarked dryly.

"Then we should leave before he finds out," Alena said. "How soon can we go?"

"We have travelling supplies and a brahmird waiting at the stables," Cristo replied. "We were only waiting for you."

"Then if there is no other business for us here…?" she said, looking to both her companions.

"None," Brey said, coming back into the hallway. He paused, considering. Although he would like to lead the princess in a certain direction, this was still her quest, and she should be the one to decide their course. Turning to Alena, he asked, "Which way should we go?"

Alena thought about it for a moment, then asked, "Which way did Tim go?"

Brey frowned. He had hoped her recovery would have expelled any feelings she had for the thief. If she was still in love with him, though…

"The stable master told me he was travelling north, back the way we came," Cristo replied automatically.

After a moment's pause, Alena said, "We'll continue south."

Brey found it impossible to contain his proud smile.


	16. Epilogue

Epilogue

The mountains of the Santeem Mid-Range had been unforgiving, the worst imaginable weather hindering each step. It seemed as though the Master himself was trying His hardest to prevent any further travel. Such a thought merely spurred the man on, however, utterly convinced he was following the right path.

After days of horrendous travel, the solace of Tempe not only provided brief comfort, but confirmed his theory as well. The pitiful village had been rescued recently, from a creature with a firm hold on its inhabitants. A small band of adventurers had saved them, and the villagers had every desire to describe their exploits in typical, epic detail. One was a man of faith, a bearer of the Zenithian mark, another an ancient wizard, his spells felling the tyrant's minions with one-fell sweep.

The last of the adventurers, though, was what clinched it. A young woman, fair skinned, short, auburn hair, and amazing battle prowess. The peasants had called her Alena Sanouch. It was too much of a coincidence.

As he left the village, Flail's hunger for the chase increased. He could almost smell the fear in his prey as he stalked them through the country's landscapes. More than that, though, the sweet taste of revenge teasingly tugged on his tongue, its desire merely spurring him further with each passing step.

_Soon, Brey! Soon we will meet again. Then, the pain you so generously gave me will be nothing like the pain I will willingly give to you._

**Here ends Part 2: Alteration. But Alena's adventure continues in Part 3: Acceptance, where Brey must face his past sins, Cristo's faith is put to the ultimate test, and Alena faces her greatest challenges yet.**


End file.
